A Marauder's Redemption
by The Sorrows of Arlathan
Summary: (A Swashbuckler's Wit Sequel)The veil is torn and Isabela has taken to the Eastern Seas aboard her new ship, The Eider's Cry. Hawke finds herself drawn into politics again as she and Isabela part ways, and soon finds herself wrapped up in the Inquisition. Will Isabela see her again? Will Hawke finally get some peace? There's doom upon the world, but there's always time for a drink
1. Homecoming

_**A/N: Here goes folks! Finally have something of a beginning for a sequel to A Swashbuckler's Wit based around Inquisition. It's slightly AU klike before, using the storyline of the game with my own twists added in. Again this focuses around Hawke and Isabela on their adventures. Usual culprits will appear too like Varric, Leliana and so on and the Inquisitor will also make appearances as well! ****The** **idea's still pretty raw in the planning but I'll see how this first chapter goes down and do my usual improvising as I go along :P**_

 _ **Let me know what you think! Hope you enjoy! :)**_

* * *

 **9:41 Dragon**

Mystical foggy dew settled ominously across the scorched, Blight-stricken lands of Ferelden countryside, the lush green leaves flapping weakly in the midnight winds. Sagging damply from their tree-top branches, they symbolised the disaster and despair which had consumed the country, stemming from the Kirkwall disaster and branching out across the land. The whole world had gone mad. Mages and Templars were at war, both against and with each other, while the regular folk of Ferelden simply tried to keep their heads low until yet another storm passed. Those who had died fighting the Blight over a decade ago would be turning in their unmarked graves at the sight of the nation they had given their lives to defend. But it wasn't just Ferelden in danger now. The threat of the Mage-Templar war was indeed grave, a terrible concoction of Templars determined to rid the world of magic, and the Mage's response to their mistreatment and imprisonment since the days of Andraste. Alas, new heroes would grow atop the old ones rested, and in time it would become clear that all hope was not as lost as it seemed. There was some good in this world worth fighting for yet, and old heroes who were trying to stay incognito would rise up again and eventually find their atonement for past misdeeds.

One said hero straightened up from the patch of crops she had been stealing from and wiped a fresh layer of rain from her forehead with the back of her hand. Of average height and perfectly proportioned to be the envy of any woman, noble or otherwise, she stood out against the stark background of the Hinterlands, a stubborn figure and about the only thing that was not yet swallowed up by the night. Lana Hawke massaged the strain in her lower back as she gazed out into the vast darkness, breathing in the freshness of the midnight air, feeling a damp chill in her lungs. Nothing welcomed one back to Ferelden like a heavy shower. The heavens above had erupted, crying upon the lands and welcoming her back like an old friend long since forgotten.

 _Home, sweet home._

Tucking her wet, shoulder length, dark brown hair behind her ear, Hawke reached down and picked up her backpack, now full to the brim of stolen food, throwing it over her shoulder. Supplies were scarce these days, and she hadn't eaten since jumping off the ship in Guarin. Carefully and cunningly, she skipped over the numerous bear claw traps in the dark, set by the local farmer to deter thieves less intelligent than herself, and began to plough through the moistness of the tall grass once more. The night grew chillier then, as a cool breeze swept across her path. She pulled her dirty, threadbare jacket closer around her chest, holding the lapels closed with her hands to make up for the lack of buttons. Of all the things unusual about this woman's appearance, a gold encrusted ring with black stones adorned the third finger on her left hand, glinting majestically in the moonlight. It was a stark contrast to her moderate, bedraggled appearance, a jewel of royal qualities that looked out of place in comparison with the rest, as though it too had been stolen. Although it was clearly the most valuable thing Hawke seemingly possessed, she never gave it a second glance, as though she was once accustomed to such jewels. The woman continued on her journey through the everlasting Ferelden countryside, blindly trudging towards her destination.

In the distance, close to where the village of Lothering once dwelled, a small cottage came into view, dim lights flickering through cracks in its boarded up window. Taking one last glance around her, as though expecting to be watched or followed, Hawke made her way down the steep, muddy hill, smiling as she neared. It brought back fond memories of a life long since lost. She scratched the face of the rotting wooden door in a distinct pattern and waited patiently. A few seconds later, there was eager scuffling on the other side, and the sliding of a bolt lock. The door creaked open just a crack and a pale face observed her, eyes widening in surprise. The person stepped back and allowed her to enter. Lana slipped inside quickly, taking off her backpack as she did so. As soon as she had stepped over the threshold, a pair of arms flung themselves around her with so much force that she almost fell over.

"Sister!"

Lana laughed and clutched her little sister Bethany in a tight hug, smelling the scent of flowers waft up from her long black hair.

"Still recognise me then?" she teased, pulling back from their embrace and taking Bethany's face in her hands, getting a better look at her. Her sister looked a lot paler and thinner than the last time she'd set eyes on her. She was still as beautiful as ever though. Bethany giggled, her warm brown eyes moist with happiness. "Eight months give or take, and yet it seems like longer with what I've been through to get home."

"You must tell me everything! Come in, come in! I'm sure you're exhausted!" her little sister squeaked. She made sure the front door was locked behind her and slid the bolt shut, then began to make her way through the dark hallway leading to the only source of light in what seemed to be a quaint little living room. "How is Isabela doing? Is she behaving? And Rivain! You must tell me all about it! Was it as secular as they say? Did you see any Seers? Or Qunari? Or—"

"Maker, let the woman breathe, Beth. She's only just got here!"

Hawke broke into a wide smile at the sight of her cousin, Charade. She crossed the sitting room and flung her arms around her, just like she had Bethany, placing a kiss on either of her cheeks.

"You're too thin, cousin! I can almost get my arms around you twice," Lana joked, feeling more bones than the last time she had hugged her before she left.

"Yes, well, food's pretty hard to come by these days what with the war and everything," Charade said grimly with a wry smile. Hawke could tell it had been hard for them, but they were both putting on brave faces. "Especially when you're in hiding...But I don't have to tell you about that. You'll know better than anyone."

Lana smiled understandingly. She had so far successfully eluded what was left of the Chantry and Mages. There was also talk in the wilds about a so-called Herald of Andraste, a Dalish elf woman now leading the Inquisition to seal the rifts that had erupted all across the land after a scorch in the sky. They said the Divine was murdered by a tainted God of some sort. _Which is total bullshit, I'm sure,_ Hawke thought to herself, _The wilder folk had more imagination than sense._ _Varric would have mentioned if it was Corypheus._ The only tainted God she knew of had been killed, by _her_ hand no less, and the previous attempts of her father before her.

"I thought you might say that," Lana said then, beginning to open her bag, "So I've taken the liberty of acquiring some delicacies for us."

Her cousin and sister squeaked in excitement as she began to produce the stolen food from her backpack: carrots, potatoes, leeks, onions (much to Lana's distaste), cauliflower, corn, roasted nug and six flasks of Rivaini ales, wines and port, courtesy of Isabela and her kleptomania.

"Maker's Breath!" Bethany exclaimed, as she and Charade examined the haul. "Did you carry these all the way from Llomerryn?"

Lana threw her a wink. "Best not ask questions, little sis. What you don't know can't hurt you."

Bethany giggled. Where her sister was concerned, truer words were never spoken.

"So, did you and Isabela encounter any trouble on the road together? I seem to remember the day when you two and Varric could start a fight in an empty tavern."

Hawke chuckled and began to unbutton the few clasps that remained on her worn out, soaking wet coat.

"Oh, you know us," she teased, removing her under layer too and hanging the dark green jacket over the clothes horse in front of the burning fire in the grate. She began to warm her hands over it, rubbing them together. "Isabela and I are never happy unless we're at each other's throats... or someone else's." The three of them laughed. "We behaved ourselves for the most part though," Hawke continued, "By our standards anyway. There were still many adventures to be had mind you, and we got into a bit of a spat with a few unsavoury types."

"The Armada? Did they hurt you!?" Bethany asked worriedly, remembering her sister murdering Isabela's old captain, Castillon, back in Kirkwall and then Isabela stealing his ship. She wasn't sure who had the longer list of enemies, Lana, or her notorious other half. They were both as infamous as the other these days, and very rarely seen in public. Lana Hawke and Isabela had become something of a myth among common folk, a legend that became different with every telling. Some said they were dead, others believed them to be on the run, and some had convinced themselves the two impish troublemakers were behind the Mage-Templar war, puppeteering from the shadows.

Lana scoffed. "Come on, little sis. You know I'm too good for that."

Her sister didn't need to know the truth. Bethany smiled, seemingly placated and walked over beside her. "I know," she admitted, scanning the numerous family portraits on the mantelpiece in the dimness. "Age hasn't slowed you down one bit it seems."

Lana chuckled. "I'm not _that_ old, Bethany. Maker, do you have me pegged for death already? Did you organise a funeral pyre for my return? I hope you got a nice cake for my wake."

"Oh, be quiet," Bethany giggled, "You're just not as young as you once were, sister." She reached out, scanning a portrait of a much younger Lana smiling impishly in its frame. Varric had managed to salvage some things from their old estate in Kirkwall, before the looters had set in and consumed the rest. He sent them along every once in a while with trusted messengers while travelling with the Inquisition. Apart from himself and Isabela, no one else knew of the Hawke family's whereabouts, and Lana preferred to keep it that way. She had already put her family in enough danger over the years, and lost over half of them in doing so. It could never be allowed to happen again. "Neither of us are," Bethany continued, "It's just a shame the world has chosen to throw us in the thick of yet another battle. Don't we deserve some peace? Haven't we been through enough, Lana?"

Hawke snorted. "Some would call this the _same_ battle that we set into motion years ago, Bethany. Maker, most even still blame me for its beginnings...But I never envisioned this." Lana's chocolate-brown eyes grew nostalgic then as she stared into the flames of the fire., remembering Meredith and Cullen, and all the others she had consorted with in Kirkwall. "I never thought siding with the mages all those years ago would cast the world into such darkness."

"You couldn't have known," Bethany replied, watching her sister reminisce. "You did it for me, I know...But tell me, sister. Now that you see the results, the tears in the veil, the scorches in the sky...if you had that choice again, would you make a different one?"

Hawke's eyes met her little sister's then and she smiled. "Not a chance, Bethany," she said, touching her cheek affectionately. "I'd never sacrifice my family for the greater good. There is always another way...And I intend to find it. I must make amends for what I have started."

Bethany grinned a little herself then. "I believe you," she said softly. "But you weren't the only one responsible, Lana. You must remember that. You are too hard on yourself. You always have been." Silence fell over them for a moment then, each remembering. Suddenly Bethany got to her feet then, clapping her hands together. "Anyway, enough of such talk...Let's just try and keep ourselves out of more trouble unless absolutely necessary, shall we? At least until Varric ropes you into another adventure."

"I've written to him again but he still refuses to tell me exactly what's going on," Lana informed her, her jaw tightening as she gazed down into the raging fire once more. "His letters are cryptic, but I've deciphered their hidden meanings. I think he's afraid to put down something clear in case it finds its way into the wrong hands. I don't think he wants the Inquisition to know he's still in contact with me...Or anyone, for that matter."

"Well, you're not exactly the most popular person in Thedas right now," Bethany reminded her.

"Gee, thanks!" Hawke replied sarcastically, "And here I was thinking I was on par with Navarre Mahariel, the bloody Hero of Ferelden!"

Lana heard Bethany chuckle from the living room as she and Charade began to carry the food into the scullery.

"What about King Alistair?" her sister called softly.

"Sent a letter just before I left Rivain! He and Anora have finally started to get along a bit better after Isabela's advice. She seems to think he's not so useless in bed anymore." Charade and Bethany laughed. "Trust Bela to interject on the sex life of a King and Queen. She really has no boundaries."

Suddenly the cries of a young babe broke their chuckles. Bethany reacted first. Like a doting mother, she rushed to the small child with bright red curls who was gazing over the tiny bassinette positioned in the corner of the living room. She picked up the little girl and began to tend to her. Hawke returned to the sitting room upon hearing the sound. Seeing the child's bright green eyes staring at her over her sister's shoulder, her face broke into a wide grin.

"How's she doing?" she asked Bethany, coming up behind her and placing a gentle kiss on the babe's face, scooping up one of her little tears with her finger. The youngest Hawke carried the now content child over to the chair and sat down, resting her on her lap. She was surprisingly sturdy for one so little, and had the look of a toddler, though she was still much too young to be considered one. Hawke sat down beside them and reached over, taking the baby girl's hand, feeling the tiny fingers close around her thumb.

"She's always fine whenever you're around," Bethany replied happily, "She likes you more than me, I think. You're always joking and messing around with her. I think she sees me as the serious one."

Hawke chuckled. "You're doing a great job, sister. I could never care for a child the way you do."

"You cared for me," Bethany reminded her. Lana laughed.

"And look where that's got me," she teased, nudging her shoulder playfully. "No...I think little Lana Hendyr is better off in your care than mine. I'm much too reckless. I'd be teaching her to fight bloody Darkspawn like Aveline and Donnic."

Baby Hendyr looked up with her bright green eyes and cooed. Her hair was getting, if possible, even redder than her mother's, and definitely curlier than before Hawke had left months ago for Rivain.

"Any word from Av?" Bethany asked curiously then, as she watched her sister get up and re-enter the scullery, where Charade was busy preparing a nug stew.

"Not a thing," Lana called back from the other room. She took up a knife and began to chop some carrots.

"And Isabela? You still haven't told me how she's doing."

The knife Lana was holding froze then. Her jaw tightened and she exhaled, her eyes finding their way to the golden ring on her left hand. She could feel Charade watching her, noticing the jewel for the first time.

"Maker's Breath! Where did you get that?" she exclaimed, taking Lana's left hand in hers and holding it up to get a better look. It was obviously the grandest thing she'd seen in a long time. Lana pulled free, embarrassed.

"I...It's nothing," she stuttered, backing away from her cousin, "Just a misunderstanding...that's all."

"A misunderstanding?" Charade repeated with a laugh, grabbing her hand again, "That looks like an engagement ring to me!"

Bethany came bounding into the scullery with Lana still in her arms, eyes wide as they caught the black-stoned ring on her sister's wedding finger.

"Blood of Andraste!" she breathed, "My sister's getting married!?"

She and Charade began to cheer and jump around like little girls. Lana wore a pained expression on her face and held up her hands to quiet them.

"Hey! Relax you two! You've got it all wrong!" she yelled, as the baby began to giggle and squeal, loving the raucousness of the moment.

"What do you mean wrong?" Bethany laughed, "Isabela gave it to you, didn't she? She proposed!"

Hawke exhaled and rolled her eyes. _Cheers, Bela...You've left me a lot of bloody explaining to do._ She nodded her head reluctantly and the scullery erupted into girlish joy once more. Hawke began to laugh a little too then despite herself and, rolling her eyes once more, left her sister and cousin to their excitement, deciding now was time perfect time for bed.

 _I'll explain the non-engagement to them tomorrow. Let them have this one. They haven't had a lot to cheer about lately._

"See you two in the morning!" she called over the cries of her gushing family. "Keep the screaming to a minimum if you don't mind. We're still in hiding lest you forget!"

"Wait!"

"Where are you going?"

They both came scrambling after her, out of breath with elation.

"We have to talk wedding plans!" Bethany called.

Hawke chuckled to herself, shaking her head, and closed the door to the bedchamber behind her. She exhaled audibly and glanced around her quarters, feeling the weariness of travel overcome her. It was so good to be home. Hungry as she was, she was equally as tired. _I'll have some stew in the morning._ Yawning, she check the room for giant spiders, remembering from her childhood, then slipped out of her damp clothes and let them fall to the floor. In nothing but her skin, she shivered against the coldness of the night and crawled under the thin linen sheets, pulling them around her. Resting her head on the thin feathered pillow, she closed her eyes and her mind began to rewind back to her first day in Rivain, all those months ago.

##

 **Four Months Previous**

"So where shall we go now?" Lana asked, strolling hand in hand with Isabela through the lively Llomerynn markets, keeping a watchful eye on some suspicious looking characters by the alleyways. She had the distinct feeling they were being spied on since coming from the restaurant where Isabela had reluctantly proposed with a stolen ring, then retracted said proposal upon Lana's 'rejection' and reassurance that neither of them were meant for such a thing. Hawke had kept the ring regardless, taking it as a memento of Isabela's love for her rather than a sign of marriage as would usually have been the case when one donned a ring on a particular finger on their left hand. Neither of them were meant for matrimony though. They both knew it, and the ring acted as a hilariously ironic reminder of that fact. It would remain something of an inside joke between them forever more.

"What else do you want to see, sweet thing?" Isabela asked, smiling at her as she watched her take in the magnificent sights. Llomerryn really was one of a kind. Being in Kirkwall all those years, and at sea the years before, Isabela forgot how much she had missed the place. It was easy to stay away, reminding herself that only painful memories awaited her here, but in a way she always knew that one day fate would drag her back to the place she had once called home. Her past was being gradually dragged up as she showed Hawke around as promised, but not in the way she had expected. It was not the bad memories that had resurrected, but rather the happy ones (if you could call them that), the memories of better times with her mother, recollections of days when they weren't getting on each other's nerves, before the Qunari poisoned their already troubled relationship and the friction that ensued with them continued forever afterwards.

 _Well...not anymore,_ Isabela reminded herself, remembering the moment she had ended her mother's life for good. Surprised, she felt a pang of sadness in her then and a lump forming in her throat upon their approaching of a familiar alleyway.

"Bela?"

Hawke stopped walking, realising that Isabela was no longer beside her. She turned back to find the pirate staring down into a seemingly empty passageway. Lana walked closer to her and slipped an arm around her waist.

"What is it?" she asked softly, stroking Isabela's lower back through her black silk shirt.

Isabela smiled her crooked smile then and turned to her. "You wanted to see where I grew up?" she asked her. "Well... here it is."

Hawke followed her gaze back down the alleyway, eyes wide. _Here?_ she thought to herself. Isabela laughed, noticing her reaction.

"You think I'm having you on?" she teased with a smile.

Lana grinned uncertainly. "You grew up in an alleyway?" she asked doubtfully.

"Hawke, you know my mother was a Seer," she reminded her, "Well, this was her spot. This was where she preyed on her the rich and the foolish...and this is where I first learned the tricks of the trade."

"Swindling coin out of strangers at a young age, were you?" Lana teased, her eyes twinkling impishly. The Admiral laughed.

"I had to start somewhere," she admitted, her amber eyes gazing down the alleyway once more. "You know, I'm almost expecting her to appear at any moment and scold me for my foul manners, running off, getting myself into trouble again."

They both laughed.

"She doesn't have a hold over you anymore, Bela," Hawke reassured her. "You're free..."

Isabela snorted. "Oh, please! She never once had hold over me, even then, Sweetness. I did whatever I wanted, and I still do. Selfish down to the last, and don't anyone forget it."

Hawke chuckled. "Spoken like a true pirate, love. I think that second bottle of wine at the restaurant has finally gone to your head."

Isabela laughed and leaned in to give her a kiss. Before their lips met however, something caught her eye over Hawke's shoulder in the distance. A suspicious woman was leaning against the wall behind one of the market stalls, determinedly looking their way while trying unsuccessfully to remain inconspicuous. Isabela froze, locking eyes with the woman.

"What's wrong?" Hawke asked in a hushed voice, her senses tingling.

"Don't look now...but I think we're being watched."

Hawke slowly turned her head, keeping her movements very natural. She then caught another person staring in their direction from a vantage point overlooking the market square.

"I see another," she whispered, "Recognise any?"

"Not yet," Isabela responded, "But I'm sure we have a mutual acquaintance or two."

"What do you reckon? Templars or Mages?"

"Maybe both," Isabela said, glancing around carefully for signs of more spies. "Or maybe Armada...How drunk are you on a scale of one to ten?"

Lana half smiled, catching her eyes momentarily. "About a six," she said. "How about you?"

"Six or seven," the pirate replied matter-of-factly, "Good thing we have a lot of experience fighting drunk. I have a feeling that's about to come in handy very soon."

"How many can you see?"

Isabela squinted. "I can't be sure, Sweetness. There's an exit at the end of this alleyway if we want to try and lose them in it."

"Admiral Isabela, Queen of the Eastern Seas, running from a fight?" Hawke teased, "I never thought I'd see the day."

Isabela smirked. "Who said anything about running? I just want to lure them into a trap."

She reached down and took Hawke's hand and began to lead her in the direction of the entry, strolling along as calm as ever, both of them aware their tails had begun to follow. The air down here was rife with sewage and echoes at the end of the tunnel told them they were headed in the direction of a crowd of rowdy drunks.

"Think we can lose ourselves among them?" Hawke asked, eyeing them up, trying to judge the potential friends from foes.

Isabela chuckled. "It's been known to happen," she joked, "You know my policy! Show the breasts and work the ass. It'll get you out of any sticky situation nine times out of ten."

"And get you into an even stickier one if those men have their way," Lana finished. They both laughed. "You know how I feel about the opposite sex, Bela. Remember that Templar party back in Kirkwall? I think I'd prefer a fight with our unknown enemies than subject myself to that again."

The pirate rolled her eyes and smiled. "Just stand still and look pretty, sweet thing. Let me do all the talking."

"Hmm, as long as talking's the only thing you have in mind," she replied, not comfortable with this current turn of events. Taking a breath to steel herself, Hawke followed after her love in to the pit of wolves as Isabela turned on the charm.

##

"Am I dead?" Hawke groaned, gazing up at the grey concrete roof of the alleyway, feeling as though the wind had been knocked out of her.

Isabela giggled. "Just knocked out," she replied amused, staring at the massive Tal Vasoth bouncer who had apparently chased them from the restaurant they had been drinking at before. Hawke sat up and massaged her temple where the thick beastly fist had connected with her head.

"Andraste's tits, are we just getting paranoid, Bela? I could have sworn we were being followed by something more sinister than a angry bouncer."

"Maybe you're right," Isabela said, a little confused that this seemed to be the only threat. She glanced down both direction of the alley, looking for their apparent stalkers moments before. There was no one.

"So much for male chivalry," Hawke chuckled, "Those drunken bastards took off at the first sign of danger, leaving us to take out a Tal Vasoth!"

"Us?" Isabela repeated, with a mocking laugh. "You were on the ground for most of it, sweet thing. Out cold after one punch and a knee to the ribs! What were you going to do, snore at him?"

"Hey!" Hawke exclaimed, massaging her ribcage with a painful grimace. "That was a bloody good kick. I'm still a bit winded."

"Yes, that was his only kick before you dropped like a dead deer on me," Isabela continued teasingly. "So tell me, where in all of this were you about to kick his ass?"

"Oh shut up," Lana retorted, as the pirate laughed at her expense. "I'll remember that next time when you're the one on your backside." She crawled up as best she could. "Are you going to help me, or just stand there and poke fun?"

Isabela thought about it. "I'm trying to decide," she teased, "I kind of like seeing you on your knees."

"Bela!"

"Ok, fine!" she relented, reaching down and pulling Hawke the whole way to her feet. The pirate then rolled the unconscious bouncer over onto his back with her foot and they both looked down at him. "Huh, I didn't think the bastard had it in him. Tough son of a bitch to take _you_ down. We really must start paying for our drinks."

"But what's the point when they're so easy to steal?" Lana joked. She touched her bleeding forehead again and groaned. "Thank The Maker I'm drunk. That could have really hurt me."

Isabela laughed and pulled something from her pack. "Here, take some of this, Sweetness. It's Rivaini Tea. It'll make you feel better."

"Tea?" Lana repeated, staring up at her in confusion, "To the Void with that, Bela! Give me some bloody whiskey! What's the matter with you?"

The Admiral laughed and rolled her eyes. "Just take some, you lunatic!"

Lana took the flask of tea reluctantly and slung it down her throat. She shivered against the warmth and felt it spread to every office in her body, relieving her of the pain as if by magic.

"By The Maker's left nut! What _is_ that!? And why have I never had it before?" she exclaimed in surprise, looking at the canteen in awe.

Isabela sniggered. "I already told you, sweetness. It's Rivaini Tea. Made from a blend of cinnamon, ginger and cloves. It's supposed to have healing power."

"Supposed to?" Hawke chuckled in disbelief, "I feel like I could dance the Rim of Gold backwards!"

She did a little jig on the spot and spun around in a circle. Realising she was still a bit dizzy (not to mention drunk), she stumbled forwards and fell into Isabela's arms. The Rivaini laughed and helped her upright, though still keeping a tight grip on her.

"Watch it, Hawke. Balls, you're like a baby on ice!" She reached out and snatched the flask of tea from her then. "And no more for you! I'll not have a repeat of the bastarding 'Beby' incident we had on Alistair's quest."

Hawke giggled. "Oh don't act like you didn't love it," she teased, smiling impishly, caressing the pirate's cheek. "From what I heard I was basically throwing myself at you."

"Not just me," Isabela added under her breath.

"And besides," Lana continued, oblivious to her aside comment, "That wasn't my fault! Varric was the one who poisoned me!"

"Actually, Varric thought it was half whiskey and half a health potion he gave you if you remember correctly. It was actually my idiot crew who sold the rest of the ingredients to him."

"Oh..." Hawke replied, who was still a little foggy on the details of that day, "Well, anyway...We're not going to have another re-run of that. I could have died...and not in the dramatic, fashionable way that I always imagined."

"You're telling me," Isabela remembered, recalling the moment when Hawke had almost fallen off the edge of her ship, high as a kite on the deathly potent concoction of whatever Varric and the crew had created. "Anyway, let's get off the streets, sweetness. It might have just been this idiot tailing us, but Maker knows there are a lot of people in this place that want my head."

"I've had your head, Bela. It's not all that," Hawke teased.

The pirate sniggered. "You weren't complaining last time," she joked, "First I've seen you in months and you're doubting my sexual talents? I may have to remind you what you've been missing out on."

"Oh, is that so?" Hawke replied, intrigued. She gave Isabela a little smirk. "Then let's find a room for the night and we can make up for lost time."

"Actually..." The pirate suddenly shoved her up against the wall of the alleyway and pressed her body against hers, pinning her there. "What's life without a little risk? Here'll do just fine." She slid her hand between Lana's thighs, making her gasp. "Welcome to Llomerryn, Hawke. I knew you'd _come_ eventually."


	2. Varric's Request

"What did one ocean say to the other ocean?"

"I don't know. What?"

"Nothing, they just waved."

Hawke snorted into her pint of ale and began to choke, feeling the foamy bubbles shoot out of her nose. Through watery eyes, she stared across the table at a chuckling pirate and began to laugh herself.

"Maker, that was an absolutely terrible joke, Isabela," she giggled, wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her intricately detailed bottle green jacket.

Her response seemed to amuse the Admiral. "I know," she agreed with a smirk, "But you hadn't spoken all morning. I thought you'd gone mute. Though judging from the moans of you last night, I wouldn't be surprised."

Lana felt her face flush red. She blew her nose into a handkerchief pulled from her pocket and then dried her chin, stopping it from dripping with foamy ale. "My throat _is_ rather scratchy actually, now that you mention it," she sniggered, "I cried myself hoarse. Andraste's ass, do we _ever_ have _bad_ sex?"

Isabela took another sip of her pint and grinned across the tavern table. "Having sex is like playing bridge, sweetness. If you don't have a good partner, you'd better have a good hand."

"Are you saying that I'm not a good partner?" Hawke asked with a frown. She looked and sounded so much like Bethany in that moment that Isabela had to laugh.

"No, not at all! I'm just saying that I've had my fair share of bad ones," the Rivaini replied. "My hand's had plenty of practice."

Their laughter carried throughout the tavern they were residing in, causing a few stares from the local patrons. Rivain was so secular and varied that even Isabela and her constant lack of pants didn't even stand out (At least not as much as it had in Kirkwall anyway). When their laughter had died out, silence fell over them once more as they both took another sip of ale. Isabela's eyes met Hawke's pointedly and the latter smiled. Conversation seemed to be in short supply on her part.

"Sorry... I know I seem a bit distracted this morning," Hawke said, knowing she was boring Isabela to death. "I've just been thinking..."

"Oh, well no wonder it took you so long then," Isabela said sarcastically.

"Hey!" Lana giggled, slapping her hand. "Give me a break. I've had a long two weeks with you. I'm tired out."

The Rivaini chuckled.

"Sorry, sweetness. I'm still a little drunk. Take no heed. So what were you thinking about that takes all morning?"

Hawke wore a thoughtful expression as she cast her mind back to what she had been contemplating before. "I received a letter today...From Ferelden," she added when Isabela looked confused. A look of understanding crossed Isabela's features then and she nodded. "It requested I return," Hawke continued vaguely, so that anyone over hearing their conversation wouldn't know who she was referring to. "Apparently things are getting more dangerous there, especially in The Hinterlands. Mages and Templars are no longer content with fighting just each other it seems."

"So what? What are _we_ going to do?" Isabela asked, sounding as though she was reluctant to even think about it. "I don't fancy entering that mix again, Hawke. Don't you remember what happened the last time? We're not as young as we once were."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Hawke replied with a smirk, "Old age and treachery will overcome youth and skill any time."

"Maybe you have a point," Isabela chuckled, "But I'm telling you now, sweet thing, I'm not heading back to Ferelden any time soon. You can be damn sure of that."

"I didn't ask you to come with me," Hawke said playfully. "But the offer's there if you want to."

"I know...But I'd rather not. Our... _dwarven friend..._ spoke of rifts in the sky and tears in the veil in his last letter. There's a bloody green breach that can probably be seen from Antiva! I know you love playing the hero, or anti-hero as it were, but I'm afraid I can't tag along this time. Not yet anyway. There's still so much to pilfer here! It's turning me on just thinking about it!"

"I understand," Hawke replied with a chuckle under her breath. She had known already that Isabela was going to remain here in the east, but still, the idea of leaving the woman she loved again was a little difficult to take. Now that she was back, Isabela would be hard to pry from this part of the world. There was much treasure and coin to be had, and the newly, self-promoted Admiral had waited the better part of a decade in Kirkwall for a ship, desperate to hit the open waters again and re-establish her title as Queen of The Eastern Seas. How could Hawke take that away from her after everything they'd gone through to get here?

 _I couldn't…I won't. She means too much to me to see her miserable again. And bless her, she's having so much fun thieving and killing!_

"You sound disappointed," Isabela noticed, folding her arms on the table and leaning in closer, meeting Lana's chocolate-brown eyes.

"I suppose I am," Lana admitted truthfully, "I can't say I want to leave you here for another lost cause. Though I knew it would come to this eventually. And I don't blame you for wanting to stay."

"Are we back to sending dirty letters then?" the Rivaini teased, wearing her familiar crooked grin. She stretched across the table and slid her hand up Hawke's arm then, caressing her soft skin. "Your penmanship really makes me quiver you know. Varric's not the only one who's good with a quill."

"And yours is... getting better," Hawke joked, receiving a nip from the pirate in return. "But yes, I suppose we are," she replied, chuckling, "To think, I only got two weeks with you after so long apart..."

A sadness fell over them then and each took a sip of their drink, trying to ignore it.

"When do you leave?" Isabela asked then, mirroring Hawke's dejected tone. The distance between them had already begun to grow.

"Tomorrow," Lana said regretfully, holding Isabela's hand in hers, stroking it with her thumb affectionately. Their silence became burdened with longing then, neither wanting to say goodbye after so little time spent relaxing in the sun. Yet it was who they were. Hawke would forever be getting roped into things that didn't concern her, and Isabela would be poking her nose (and other things) where it didn't belong. One went looking for trouble, while trouble seemed to find the other. That was the dynamic of their relationship, and neither questioned it when the inevitable would occur and tear them away from their fun.

The Rivaini reached over then and curled her fingers under Hawke's chin, nudging her head up and throwing her a smile.

"Then we'll just have to make the most of today, sweetness. Drink up and we'll get out of here. I'll put it on my tab."

She leaned over and covered Lana's lips with her own, slipping her tongue into her mouth and successfully distracting them both from their pending separation the next day.

##

"So, where do you want to go?" Isabela asked, swinging Hawke's arm playfully as they held hands, strolling down the streets of Llomerryn, blinded by the scorching sun overhead. "There's this really great brothel down—"

"No!" Hawke said in point black refusal, "We've went to a brothel every night this week, Bela! Maker's Breath, I don't think I have any more self-respect left to spare!"

Isabela chuckled. "Oh, Hawke, don't be such a bore!" she teased, "We had fun, right?"

"Yes, we did," Hawke laughed, "But if this is my last night with you then I want it to be with _only_ you. No extras," she added with a snigger, "Even if they were free...sort of."

"Hmm, yes, we really need to start paying for our whores," Isabela smirked, winking at her, "But I see your point, sweetness. My question still stands though. Where do you fancy?"

"The beach? Or we could go for a stroll until I sober up a bit? My hangover's raging right now."

"Sounds good," Isabela agreed, staring out into the distance as though something or someone had caught her attention. A man glanced nervously over his shoulder in their direction, then noticing he had been spotted, proceeded to run down the nearest alleyway to escape. "However it seems I have a debt to collect first...Bloody coward...Come on, Hawke! Back me up!"

Confused, but intrigued all the same, Lana sprinted after Isabela, past the numerous market stalls, weaving in and out of the chattering townsfolk. By the time she caught up with her in the nearest alleyway, Isabela was holding a man upside down by the ankle, dangling him around, watching thick gold coins spill from every orifice of his clothing.

"Yes, I see what you mean, Arthur," she was saying sarcastically, sounding amused. "You really are broke! You've only got around...Maker, thirty sovereigns? ...And you only owe me ten."

"Isabela!" the man called Arthur croaked, his face gradually getting redder as the blood ran to his head. He stared up at her, quaking with fear. "I was gonna pay ya! I swear it!"

"Going to?" Isabela laughed, "There's no 'going to' in my line of work, Arthur. You either pay up, or you don't. And when you don't, well...let's just say you're not the first person I've dangled by the ankle like this."

"My brother...Argh...my brother said he had already squared you up, Admiral!" Arthur tried desperately, the top of his head scraping the ground as Isabela shook him again. More coin clattered to the ground, this time coming from the seam of his rather dirty, smelly underpants. "Or...or was it my sister?" he corrected, fumbling for a length of rope and hoping that it wouldn't hang him. "Yes, it was Cressida! Or...or no, it was my cousin, Wilhelm!"

"Well then, your family tree must be a bloody cactus, Arthur, because you've just named a bunch of pricks!" Isabela chuckled, "Cressida would hardly pay _your_ debt when she owes me even more than you do, and Wilhelm? Ha! I killed him last week...Or rather, Hawke did." She turned to Lana, with a grin on her face. "Sorry, sweet thing. I didn't mean to steal your thunder."

Hawke sniggered. "Don't worry about it, Admiral. He wouldn't have fallen into my trap had you not chased him there."

Arthur's eyes bulged then. "Wil...Wilhelm is dead?" he gasped, "You-You bitch! You ruddy—Argh! Gerrof me! GERROF ME!"

"Stop squirming!" Hawke ordered fiercely, bending down on her hunkers and pointing a finger of warning at Arthur's upside down face. "You owe Isabela, Arthur, and you owe her big. We're taking everything you have now. That's the price for trying to screw us over. Let this be a lesson to you to pay back your next loan on time...m'kay pumpkin?"

She patted his face playfully and Isabela let him drop. Arthur immediately scrambled to his feet and tried to swing for them but as a result of landing on his head, it appeared he was a little concussed. After one swing too many, the vagabond lost his balance and fell over, unmoving and, by all explanations, unconscious.

Isabela chuckled and began to help Hawke pick up Arthur's coin.

"How long do you reckon he'll be out for?" Lana asked, giggling a little herself.

"About an hour at least," Isabela replied, "Serves him right, the scummy bugger. No one diddles me like that and gets away with it."

"Besides me," Hawke joked, her eyes twinkling, "I diddle you on occasion for free."

The Rivaini laughed. "True, you're the exception it seems...like always. Anyhow, let's get out of here. Whatever coin you picked up you can keep. Ferelden's sure to be shy of gold, and I got more back than what I was owed."

"You're too kind," Hawke teased, pocketing her handfuls of gold.

"I know! When did it become so?" Isabela lamented jokingly. "I definitely didn't learn it from you. You're a selfish prat!"

They both giggled and rejoined the rest of the Rivaini shoppers, who were travelling in large groups in the market square, chattering excitedly about the produce available. It seemed that with Isabela back in action on the high seas once more, Llomerryn was prospering more than usual. The Admiral had more contacts in the black market than any other eastern pirate, and she had regained control of all the trade routes in and out of the city. Her new ship, The Eider's Cry, was well known in these parts, almost as infamous as herself. Isabela, having taken no more than a month to reassert her dominance in the region, now ruled the surrounding seas better than she had beforehand now that Castillon and Hayder were long dead.

"Ah I miss those looks," Hawke began, her voice heavy with sarcasm as she saw the reactions and stares that Isabela was generating while they walked across the square together. The highborn eyed her with disdain, while the merchants and dodgier folk with respect. "The nobles in Rivain seem to be familiar with Free Marcher manners."

Isabela sniggered. "They're not just looking at me, sweetness. Do you really think people haven't noticed you travelling with me? Word travel's fast. They know who you are and what you did in Kirkwall. There's as many who would kill you as congratulate you. If Rivain had of been more Chantry inclined, I'm sure the Seekers of Truth or the Templars would have found you by now."

"Didn't you hear? They've disbanded," Hawke informed her with a smirk.

"They haven't disbanded, sweet thing, they've just reformed under a new banner, and I _know_ Varric is close at hand to all the action. He can't help it! He sounds too excited in his letters, even as vague as they are. Maybe you can find out what he's up to once you return to Ferelden."

"I'll do my best," Lana nodded, reassuring her with an arm around her waist, "I think he's going to try and reel me into the cause soon. He keeps hinting at needing my help with something."

"Just watch yourself, Hawke," Isabela warned, as they turned a corner, "I don't like this. A massive hole in the sky can never be good news, but you don't owe anyone anything this time. If Varric lands himself in trouble then we'll by all means help him out...Just don't let him suck you into his heroic bullshit again. We've both read his stories. We both know how it ends."

Hawke said nothing in reply. She didn't much like being told what to do, and getting advice from Isabela not to do anything crazy was pretty rich coming from her. _She can bloody talk! Her middle name is trouble!_ Yet Lana couldn't help but notice the concern coming from Isabela's words. She knew the woman was just looking out for her, but where Isabela's disasters were created by her, Hawke's were created by trying to help others. Maybe Isabela had a point. Hawke always tried to fight for the greater good, and in the end she ended up getting burned worse than before. Perhaps now, with the world seemingly coming to an end, was as good a time as any to be selfish.

##

 **Present Day**

The morning after returning to Bethany's home in The Hinterlands, Hawke woke up to find some letters had been left for her in the night by her trusted messengers. Smiling to herself as she recognised Isabela's untidy scrawl, she opened the wax seal of the Rivaini Port Authority by sliding her finger underneath, and unfolded the salty-smelling browned piece of vellum. Holding the note up closer to the candlelight, her bleary brown eyes began to read:

 _Hope your booty made it back to shore in one piece, sweet thing. Sorry for making you swim the last mile but a bet's a bet. Plus you know how much I love making you wet._

 _Say 'Hi' to Beth and Charade for me. I'm sure they're glad to get you home, even if it's only for a while. Also, if you find out who Bethany's secret crush is, let me know. I've been wrecking my brains for ages to figure it out but...the girl's got stranger taste than I do._

 _If and when you see our dwarven friend, buy him a pint or two and fiddle with Bianca on my behalf. That's one piece of wood that I'd just love to get my hands on. She's the only trigger in Thedas I haven't sprung._

 _Take care of yourself and be careful. There are still lots of people who want you dead and I'm afraid I'm not into necrophilia much. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you now._

 _If I come across anything interesting I'll send it your way._

 _P.S. My drawings are improving, don't you think?_

Hawke sniggered as she spotted the crude sketch of a naked woman with her legs open at the bottom of the page, carrying out a sex act. _Oh Isabela,_ she sighed inwardly. Shaking her head and still chuckling, she tucked the note into her drawer along with the others she'd received long ago, then began washing herself over the stone basin in the corner. She threw on some clean clothes from her closet and entered the living area.

"Didn't she sleep last night?" Lana asked, seeing Bethany nursing a whimpering ginger babe in the corner.

"Not a wink," Bethany replied tiredly, "I tried giving her milk but she doesn't seem to want it."

"Maybe I can try," Hawke offered.

"No, it's fine," her sister said, ignoring Lana's outstretched arms. "You've got a lot to be getting on with. We're running low on firewood. Do you think you could go out and get some?"

"I can try," Hawke said, looking out a crack in the boarded up window. "I doubt I'd be able to find anything dry though. Can't you use your magic?" Bethany didn't reply. Confused, Lana turned back to her, noticing for the first time since her return that Bethany seemed out of sorts a bit. She didn't look healthy. "Beth?"

Her little sister put baby Lana back in her bassinette and sank onto the armchair, breathing rather heavily.

"Bethany!" Hawke gasped, rushing over to her side, crouching down in front of her. She took her face in her hands. "Look at me, pretty thing." Bethany's brown eyes looked hazy and out of focus as they stared weakly back at her. "What's happened to you?"

"Nothing..." she gasped, "Nothing...I'm fine..."

"Don't bullshit me, Beth! Speak to me."

Bethany swallowed, her skin becoming even whiter. Her face was drenched in a clammy sweat and she seemed close to losing consciousness.

"There's a...a shift in the Veil," she managed to whisper. "It's...a-affecting my magic. The demons...the demons w-whisper to me...M-more so than ever .I think there's a r-rift nearby."

"A rift?" Hawke asked. She had never seen one up close, and didn't particularly want to. Her sister nodded. "Does this happen a lot?"

"On o-occasion," Bethany groaned, closing her eyes and hunching over as though she had a stomach ache. "I'll be fine in a few minutes...I just have a painful migraine."

Lana stood up and filled a mug of water in the scullery. She forced the cup into Bethany's shaking hands and massaged her back.

"Is there anything I can do?"

Her little sister shook her head. "The only person I've heard of who can close the rifts is the Inquisitor."

"The what?" Hawke asked, confused.

"It's what they call the Herald of Andraste." Bethany nodded her head towards something on the small round coffee table in front of her. "But enough of this. You have bigger things to worry about. An urgent letter arrived last night from Varric when you went to bed," she informed her. "You should read it..." Her face dropped then and she looked sad. "I don't think we're going to be spending much time together soon, Sister."

Lana's heart broke a little, hearing her words. She snatched the letter from the table and hastily opened it, disappointed for the first time in her life to see the dwarf's handwriting.

 _Hawke,_

('It must be serious if he's using my real name,' thought Lana)

 _I'm afraid you're going to have to come out of hiding. I know it was me who put you on the path of the Carta to save Bethany, which led you to Corypheus, and I know you said you killed him but...Hawke it's him. He's back. This whole mess, the Breach, the explosion in Haven, The Divine's death...It was all Corypheus. Somehow he survived._

 _I don't even know how to explain this, especially not in a letter. The world needs you to step in. You're the only one who's faced him before. Aveline wrote to Leliana, informing her something's happening with the Wardens in Adamant Fortress. Donnic is on the run from her superiors. Aveline wanted to come herself but it was easier for her husband to slip free. He'll make contact with you soon. We both think both Corypheus and the Warden's strange behaviour are related... A scary thought._

 _I've done everything in my power to keep the Seeker from you and hide you from even Leliana herself (do you have any idea how hard that was? The woman could tell you what the Arishok had for breakfast!). I regret to admit, you're sorely needed now though. I've left you directions to Skyhold where the Inquisition is based. Meet me on the rafters in secret and I'll introduce you to the Inquisitor. She's nice. You'll like her._

 _I'm sorry. I owe you more than a pint when you get here...that's if Seeker Cassandra doesn't kill me first for lying to her all this time._

 _See you, Hawke. Apologise to Sunshine for me. I know she was looking forward to getting you home._

 _Varric_

Lana sank onto the armchair behind her, face ashen with worry. To say she was in shock was an understatement.

"Corypheus," she whispered hoarsely, staring unblinkingly at her sister, both of them remembering the fight they'd shared with him. It had been the toughest battle they'd ever faced. "He...he survived...?"

"I know," Bethany empathised, "But it can't be...We killed him!"

"He was dead," Hawke agreed, remembering prodding him with her dagger more than once to be sure. "More than dead...We made sure of it."

The more she thought of it though, the more she became unsure. _Did we start this?_ she wondered, _Did we make a blunder that set Corypheus free? Is the Divine dead because of me?_ Her thoughts fell on Leliana then and her heart warmed. She knew her old flame had been very close with the Divine. She was her Left Hand after all. Hawke's stomach dropped then. Surely Leliana wasn't handling the news well. She'd already lost the Hero of Ferelden.

Hawke jumped to her feet then. "I have to go," she said, having made up her mind, the image of a grieving Leliana scorched into her mind. "I need to go, now! I have to fix this, Beth!"

"There must be another way!" Bethany said. "You can't! You've only just arrived, Lana."

Lana crossed the room and held her sister, seeing she was about to cry.

"I've got to, Beth," she apologised, burying her face in her sister's flowery-scented hair and closing her eyes as she hugged her tightly. She hated leaving her. "I'm sorry. I'll bring word of the rift nearby to the Inquisitor to see if she can do anything about it. Then you can use your magic freely again and provide for Charade. Don't be afraid to wield magic, Sister. You'll never succumb to a demon. Father taught you well."

She broke free from their embrace and rushed to her room, picking up her bag and stuffing her few unpacked possessions back inside. Bethany followed, bringing a few things to eat from the scullery, including a tub of last night's nug stew leftovers.

"Be careful, Lana," she said sadly. "I know you're probably sick of hearing those words by now but promise me you won't do anything stupid."

"Do I ever?" Lana half-joked, still having not recovered from the shock at Corypheus' resurrection.

"I'm serious, Sister. You're the only family I have left."

"What are you talking about, you have Charade now."

"We've only known each other a short while, Lana," Bethany reminded her. "It's not the same. You are my blood. We've both been through the Void together."

"Then I'll try not to end up there permanently," Hawke promised, giving her a reassuring smile and a pat on the shoulder. She grabbed her coat from the clothes horse where she had left it drying last night and put it on. "Say goodbye for me? Hold the fort, little sis. I'll be back before you know it...and for the love of The Maker, will you tell Isabela who your crush is before she has an aneurism? Maker's Breath, she's been torturing me for information for months."

Bethany chuckled through her tears. "I think I'll let her imagination run wild for a little longer. I'll write to her to let her know where you've gone."

"She won't be happy," Lana relented, "She's already told me this was none of my business and that I have no right getting involved."

"I never thought I'd agree ever with her wholeheartedly, Sister, but this time she's right," Bethany said softly. "Don't take unnecessary risks. They have the Inquisitor for that. You've done your part."

Lana nodded. She pulled Bethany into another tight hug once more and placed a kiss on the top of her head.

"I'll see you soon, Bethany, " she said, her voice cracking. "Right after I save the world...I promise."


	3. An Admiral's Business

"Ser Tadeus! What a pleasant surprise!"

Isabela stood with her hands on her hips in her best seductive pose, blue admiral coat rippling in the gentle Antivan wind, and wearing a wicked smirk on her face. A tall, muscular-looking pirate with a black beard and red hat was striding across the docks towards her, looking livid. He was about a foot taller than she was, but the Admiral didn't flinch an inch, even as he towered overhead, blocking out the sun and getting into her personal space.

"Isabela," Ser Tadeus grunted. If looks could kill, Isabela would have dropped dead on the spot. Instead though, she smiled up at the imposing figure and ran a hand across his bulging bicep, not in the least bit afraid.

 _Show fear in this game and you may as well bend over and get one up the ass!_

"Been working out?" she teased, tracing his impressive muscles. "New tattoo maybe?"

Ser Tadeus glared down at her hand on his tattooed arm and made a face. "Get your muddy paws off me, Whore. I know where they've been."

"Oh, don't be like that, Tad," Isabela grinned. "I've been keeping relatively clean recently."

"You're a scoundrel, Isabela. Everyone knows it!"

The Admiral laughed. "Well, what does that make you then?"

After a few serious seconds, suddenly his harsh features turned into an appraising smile.

"Still got that smart mouth of yours I see, Captain."

Isabela chuckled. "It's Admiral now actually. Only one title's changed though. I'm still Queen in these parts, lest you or anyone forget."

"And I'm still King of the Armada," Tadeus retorted.

"Sure, sure," Isabela replied, trying not to laugh. Tad was a dangerous man, but he was no King. Of course, no one ever said it to his face. You don't sink a half dozen Orlesian frigates without earning at least _some_ respect. "Still not as notorious as me though."

"So I hear," Tadeus replied, raising an eyebrow, reluctant to give her her dues at his own expense but unable to deny them either. "Which is why when I heard someone had stolen goods from my warehouse in Rivain, I tracked you down...my _Queen_. Know anything about that?"

Isabela's amber eyes twinkled. "Maybe," she teased, "But you're not going to get it out of me that easy, Tad. What happened to the preliminaries? A lady likes to be wined and dined first."

"You're no lady," Tadeus smiled smartly.

"True," Isabela relented, enjoying sparing with him. "And I supposed you've heard that I'm practically a married woman these days."

"Never thought I'd see the day."

Isabela laughed. "You're not the only one. I'm afraid the Champion of Kirkwall would hunt you down and put your head on a spit if we frolicked like the old days. How about we have a few shots and a game of Wicked Grace instead of a tumble between the sheets?"

Ser Tadeus seemed amused. "If you think I'm playing another game of that shit with you, you're barking up the wrong tree, Isabela. Everyone knows you cheat."

"And...you don't?" she asked, toying with him.

Ser Tadeus eyed her respectively. She sure knew how to dance with her words. "Forget the game. Let's just have a few drinks and talk business." He kicked open the door to the tavern beside them and held it open for her, as both their crews looked on, enjoying the match up. "Shall we, Your Highness?"

Isabela grinned. "You don't have to ask me twice. You're buying though."

The Admiral caught her hat, tossed to her by one of her crew, and placed it on her head. She swaggered into the tavern full of pirates as though she belonged nowhere else, wearing the slyest of grins. After inspecting her ass, Ser Tadeus chuckled, shaking his head in amazement, and then followed her inside. They placed themselves at a table in the centre of the establishment, sailors and sea-men dispersing for them as their glowing reputations preceded them. The patrons tried to get clear enough to be out of danger, but close enough to see the action. They gathered around eagerly, as though these meetings were common place between infamous pirates.

"Two shots of rum," Isabela requested from the waitress, as she lay back, totally relaxed in her wooden chair as though she hadn't a care in the world. It was moments like these that she deserved her respect and infamy, unfazed in the slightest that the eyes of every man and woman in the tavern was on her. She looked as though she noticed none of them, but in reality, experience taught her to be wary of each and every one. Pirates weren't ones to play fair after all.

 _I should know..._

Ser Tadeus ordered the same, then took a seat opposite her, with only the table as a buffer between them. The tavern had gone quiet, as the underlings filed in eagerly, circled around the two leaders as though they were on some sort of exhibition.

"So..." Isabela began, staring seductively across at her fiend and holding up her shot glass. "What shall we drink to?"

Tadeus mirrored her. "To _old friends_ ," he said carefully, with an underlying hint of challenging her to say otherwise, "Helping each other out just like we used to in the past."

They both toasted each other and downed the first shot. Isabela folded her legs then and straightened up a little, readjusting her knife belt and pulling out a sizeable dagger that she kept hidden there. She placed it on the table, in a passive, but equally as intimidating manner, noticing the hidden threat in Tadeus' words of friendship.

"Impressive," he approved, sizing up the blade. "But mine is bigger."

"Not in any rumours I've heard," Isabela sneered, "They say the only difference between your penis and your jokes is...well, no one laughs at your jokes."

A ripple of laughter echoed throughout the tavern then, as the crews showed their approval. Tadeus looked at them all in confusion, but realised the majority of the crowd just wasn't on his side. Everyone loved how Isabela played the game. She was a legend after all, a natural at making men with big... _ehem_...'egos'...feel about as experienced a young virgin choirboy. The Rivaini's smile became even cheekier then. She knew Tadeus would be scrambling for approval now, afraid of losing face in front of a whole host of pirates like this. He needed to assert his dominance after being made a mockery of.

"Look, I'll get straight to the point," he began seriously, just as Isabela had predicted. "Someone stole my goods, Isabela. I want them back. And you're going to 'help' me get them back...Know what I mean?"

The smile slid off Isabela's face then at the obvious accusation in his tone. She leaned in a little closer, meeting his eyes defiantly.

"I'm afraid I don't, Tad. Whatever _do_ you mean?" she replied lightly, keeping her cool, calm demeanour. This was child's play. If he thought to get the truth out of her at this rate, he had another thing coming. He had played his hand way too early.

 _Poor Tad...Still ejaculating prematurely I see...Pity, he always had potential._

"No more games, Isabela. I want my things back...or I shall have to take something of yours in return."

The atmosphere in the tavern grew a little colder then (which was saying a lot. They were in Antiva for The Maker's sake!). A few of Isabela's crew grumbled in anger at the poorly concealed threat, while Tadeus' men flexed their muscles, and a few neutrals stepped back a bit in an act of self preservation. Isabela however, merely chuckled and held out her arms so that her cleavage and other assets were on show.

"Be my guest," she challenged, "It's nothing you haven't seen before...Of course there's also my ship, but I don't think you'd stupid enough to screw me twice. Plus, Jackson just hates when strangers touch his things, don't you Jackson?"

A giant dark-skinned, half naked pirate behind her made a snort of agreement, his beady black eyes fixed firmly on the 'King of the Armada'. Ser Tadeus slammed his knife into the table in frustration then and got to his feet. The entire tavern held its breath as he leaned across, towering over the Rivaini once more and staring her down.

"Idle threats don't scare me, Isabela. Lachlan Poole will resupply me with whatever you've taken due to our...arrangement. I just thought I'd give you a chance to come to your senses and drop the act," he said calmly. "For old times' sake."

"Oh don't be such a killjoy, Tad. No one cares what Lachlan Poole does or doesn't do," Isabela replied in her usual carefree, teasing tone. "We all know he's got the Armada in his pocket, posturing around the southern cape of Rivain, rattling his little saber." The tavern chuckled once more, though none of them would have half the balls to speak out against Poole themselves. "If he's hired you to run things while he plays adventurer on the high seas, then more fool you. But when all that coin of his is gone...? Well, let's just wait and see, shall we? I'd hate to spoil the fun."

Ser Tadeus, seeing he would get nothing out of her, straightened up then. He downed his last shot, grabbed his knife from the table and tucked it inside his belt.

"Pleasure as always, Admiral," he said, concluding their meeting. "Glad to have you return after your shipwreck in Kirkwall. I'd watch your back though. You're just as cocky as ever, but the game has changed."

"Pity the same couldn't be said for yourself," Isabela mocked, staring pointedly at the disappointing bulge between his legs. The Rivaini's crew laughed loudly then, jeering at their rivals as they filed out of the tavern, signalling the end of the pirate council. Isabela smiled to herself as business in the establishment returned to normal, and took her last shot, savouring the glorious taste of victory.

"Jackson," she said then, when the sailors around them had gone back to their business. The giant pirate at her request, leaned in so that only he could hear her. "Tell the men in private to set sail tonight. Antiva isn't safe right now. We need to take to the Waking Sea at once. I don't think Tad is stupid enough to board my ship, but one of these underlings might if he pays them, trying to make a name for themselves."

"And Ser Tadeus' goods, Admiral?" Jackson asked. "What shall we do with them?"

Isabela considered this for a moment. "We'll flog them in the Free Marches before making our way to Lachlan's location. Tadeus will have warned him before we get there so we're going to need more careful planning. In the mean time, I think I know someone in Kirkwall who can take the goods off our hands and pay a hefty fee in return. We need to be light and speedy if The Eider's Cry is going to outrun a few of the best ships in the Armada's fleet."

"Yes, sir! I'll tell the men right away," the giant beast of a man replied. "Shall I leak a fake trail to throw them off our scent?"

"Good idea," Isabela agreed. "Drop a few comments in the tavern loud enough for people to overhear, saying we're heading for Orlais. With any luck they'll report back to Tadeus and he'll take the bait. That should give _me_ time to hunt down Lanto in Antiva's fine city and tell him of my plan. We're going to need that crazy son-of-a-bitch on our side if we have any hope of this coming off."

"Yes, sir! Meet you back on the ship."

Isabela watched Jackson walk away, wondering if there was anything she'd overlooked. Nothing sprang to mind. She drained the dregs of rum in her glass then strapped her knife back around her midsection, kicking the chair out from behind her and exiting the stifling tavern into the scalding Antivan heat, momentarily blinded by the sunlight. She tossed her heavy blue coat to one of her crew, who was busy packing recently stolen gems in crates with her Rivaini Port Authority seal, then made her way out towards the end of the dock, staring out at the gorgeous view. The reunion with Ser Tadeus had gone exactly as she thought it would. _Neither of us can deny a good flirt when we get together._ The stolen goods he was referring to were resting firmly in the hold of The Eider's Cry this very minute, but she knew he wouldn't dare try and get aboard without her knowing. Right now, her ship was the safest place for them, as no one had the stones to try and duel her. But she couldn't dock overnight. It was too tempting for idiots.

 _Too risky...Hang out with Hawke and Varric long enough and you'll know that anything in the world can be stolen from, even the best damn ship in the world._

Thinking of Hawke then, Isabela sat down on the end of the harbour and leaned back on her arms, relaxing, wishing to The Maker that Lana was by her side. It had been about a month since she'd watched her jump off The Eider's Cry and swim towards the port in Guarin after losing a bet on a game of poker. Isabela had laughed herself hoarse as she watched along with her crew, all of whom were also sad to see Hawke leave. She brought a new lease of life to voyages at sea. Half the crew knew her from during their quest with King Alistair, and she had won their respect almost as much as Isabela had. Morale was through the roof with Hawke aboard.

 _Well, I guess watching us kiss on deck would be good for any man's morale, wouldn't it?_

Isabela sighed, her whole body aching to be touched again by the woman she loved. Hawke was no doubt off saving the world again though to be thinking about sex. Just as the thought came to her, Isabela's silent contemplation was interrupted by a messenger with a letter for her.

"Arrived just now, Admiral. Someone must know you're here."

"Thank you, Sprug."

Seeing the Hawke Family coat of arms on the wax seal, Isabela tore it open, hoping to find a dirty limerick or two and a paragraph of Hawke's best attempts at making her wet. Their love letters were nothing of the sort, but rather disgusting pieces of filth that wouldn't be found even in a whore house, all in the attempts to fulfil the other's loneliness while they were apart. With a pang of sadness, she realised at once that it wasn't Hawke's writing at all. Her heart deflated as she read the tidy scrawl.

 _Bela,_

 _A friend wrote to tell me you were expected in Antiva City soon. I hope the rumours were right and this reaches you there before you set sail again._

 _Lana's gone to Skyhold to meet with Varric. I spent less than a day with her before she took off. I think she's going to get herself dragged into this Inquisition mess. Apparently an old god we both fought once is the one responsible for this end of the world business. I'm scared, Bela. I don't think Lana's going to come back from this fight. I just thought you should know she's put herself in danger once more. After Kirkwall, I thought she might have gotten sick of fighting, but she seems to think it's her duty this time._

 _I know you hate being away from my sister, and I know she'll be missing you dearly. At least you'll be able to write to her there at the fortress now. Try not to worry too much. She's with Varric. Although I'd feel much more self-assured if you were by her side too, but I understand your reasons for staying well away._

 _I'll keep you up to date with things as they happen._

 _Stay safe,_

 _Bethany_

 _(P.s. My secret crush begins with 'C'. You'll never guess it!)_

When Isabela had finished, she balled up the letter in her hand and tossed it out into the sea, smiling. Bethany was a sweet girl, but this letter had probably done more harm than good. _Balls, I knew this would happen if Hawke returned to Ferelden. How am I supposed to concentrate on taking control of the eastern seas now that I know she's in danger? Maker bloody knows where she is now._ Remembering that Leliana played a main part in the Inquisition's cog, Isabela wondered if she should return. Although all notion of the former Bard and Hawke ever getting back together was off the cards, Isabela still didn't quite fancy the idea of them cosying up together in a massive castle.

 _Stupid thought,_ she scolded herself, _Andraste's tits, when did I become so bloody paranoid? I thought I was over this bullshit.  
_

Wrecked with indecision now, Isabela got to her feet and made her way back to her ship, seeing its vast elegant body swaying in the breeze, magnificent black sails catching in the wind. Along the way, she weighed up her options. The men needed her to complete her newest venture against Lachlan Poole. She couldn't abandon them now, and there wasn't a bone in her body that wanted to return to Ferelden when there was much more coin to be had in the east. Hawke could handle herself, couldn't she?

 _Of course,_ Isabela concluded, _Hawke's more than capable of doing this on her own. That's why she didn't force me to come._

She shook her head, steeling herself as she boarded The Eider's Cry, ready to prepare for the open ocean once more.

 _No...I'm not going back to Ferelden...At least not yet anyway. We'll see how the situation progresses. I'll let Hawke know I'm up to date though. Bethany said Skyhold, right? Never heard of it, but I'm sure one of my messengers has._

She pulled a piece or blank vellum from the drawer in her quarters on The Eider's Cry and began to scribble a letter to her love, taking special care with her crude drawings once more. She was getting rather good now! Hawke would surely be turned on, ready and waiting for her when she finally showed up at Skyhold. Right now though, the woman was surely having the time of her life with Varric. They had a lot of catching up to do right? There was absolutely no need for the Rivaini to come out of hiding and expose herself to the bloody Inquisition of all things. They'd probably start an Exalted March just to chase her out of Skyhold. She wasn't exactly popular among religious types.

 _And then Isabela went to the Chantry, and saw that it was... boring. Canticle of Isabela, stanza one, verse one._

Laughing as she recalled her short time in the Chantry in Kirkwall before Anders blew it up, and having made up her mind finally, Isabela pulled on her Admiral coat and passed on her letter to the messenger. She climbed back up on deck and rested her hands on the ship's helm, griping it tightly and staring out at the horizon, eager to get back out there once more and carryout the rest of her clever plan against the rich prick that was Lachlan Poole.


	4. The Inquisition

_**A/N: I'm off to enjoy my weekend now. Next upload won't be for another day or two. Hope you've all enjoyed the story so far ;)**_

* * *

Hawke stood on the edge of Skyhold, leaning on the lower part of the highest stone wall, and stared out at the beautiful view of the Alps. It had taken her almost two months to travel north from former Lothering, halted by Mage and Templar factions, but the mere sight of this wondrous place made it seem worth it. Lana found herself mesmerised by the tall, snowy peaks that concealed the fortress from the rest of the world. As a native of Ferelden and having spent her entire childhood here, it really hit home in that moment just how much she'd missed the country. If not for the Blight driving her and her family from their home, the last ten years of her life would have gladly been spent in the 'dog-lands', rather than enduring the constant struggles of Kirkwall. The Free Marches soon became home to her, but Ferelden never really left her heart. There was so much unfinished business, so many memories, so many familiarities and comforts. Being here in this moment, having just met the Inquisitor to discuss their next move, and standing on the edge of yet another battle, Hawke couldn't really begin to understand the mix of emotions running through her.

"Are you alright?" Varric asked quietly, breaking her from her silent meditation. Hawke came back to her senses, realising she must have looked rather ridiculous, hunched over the icy wall, clinging to it with her hands as though struggling to find some sense in all of this. None of it seemed real. Andraste's Chosen? Tears in the sky? Even the Breach itself... The entire world had been completely flipped on its head.

"I'm...Pfff, I don't really know," she replied simply, exhaling slowly. "I just can't believe it has come to this again, Varric. Will it _ever_ end?"

The dwarf snorted, and leaned against the outer wall beside her (his head barely drawing level). He crossed one leg in front of the other and folded his arms.

"Not for us, Hawke... It's never over for people like us."

Lana heaved a sigh, knowing he was right. Nothing had ever been easy for any of them. Somewhere along the line they always found themselves in some sort of trouble. It was almost becoming second nature by now.

"I owe you an apology," Varric continued grimly. "I was the one who dragged you into things in Kirkwall. If we'd never found that damned idol none of this would have happened...I'm doing it again, Hawke. I'm putting you in danger for my own selfish reasons."

"It's not your fault," Hawke said kindly, smiling down at him, seeing he was beating himself up. "If I'd have killed Corypheus properly the first bloody time he wouldn't be blowing up Conclaves and tearing the sky into pieces." She closed her eyes and shook her head ruefully, remembering prodding the so-called 'Old God' with her dagger several times over in The Deep Roads to make sure he was dead.

 _If only I'd prodded him a few more times. Would he have come back to life? Bethany and I rushed out of that place so fast, haunted by horrible memories of our father. Did we undo Father's blood magic for selfish reasons, or was it the right thing to do at the time?_

Thinking back to her recent introduction to the Inquisitor, a sick feeling formed in the pit of Lana's stomach. The elven woman looked to be just in her twenties. Pretty, skilled and level-headed...but young, far too young for a quest such as this. It was a lot to ask someone to singlehandedly save the world.

 _Literally singlehandedly,_ Lana thought, _One hand, with one Anchor, one bastarding Fade Rift at a time._

"You'll take care of her, won't you?" she asked then, nodding her head sideward in the direction of the Inquisitor, who was walking up steps in the distance back towards the keep after their talk, her long red hair shining in the midday sun. She carried herself with so much purpose for such a slender figure. It was easy to see why all these people had rallied around her. But she was still barely an adult. "All this can't be easy for her to take in."

"Ellana's a tough girl," Varric smiled reassuringly.

"You haven't given her a nickname yet?" Lana teased, knowing the only two people Varric was yet to christen with new names were herself and Aveline (who didn't appreciate being called simply 'Red').

Varric chuckled. "I think she has enough titles to be getting on with," he joked, "She's not used to all this name-calling, title-spouting bullshit. She's a Dalish from Clan Lavellan. But don't worry about her. I've been keeping an eye out. Two eyes actually, as often as I can spare them. She's the only one who can end all this."

Hawke considered her next question before asking it, still feeling like this whole thing was a rather wholly affair. "Do you really think she's the Herald of Andraste?"

Varric puffed loudly. "Honestly, I don't know what to believe, Hawke. All I know is, she fell out of the Fade with that mark on her hand and started shutting rifts with it. Is she holy? Is she Andraste's Chosen? Ha, I haven't a bastarding clue how to answer that one."

Lana giggled a little too then, sceptical as she was and glad to see her friend agreed with her, at least in part. It was all a bit too far-fetched. _A bit like my own story I suppose, though my unbelievable infamy was thanks to Varric and his exaggerations, not wild Chantry worshipers and tears in the sky._

"You and me both then, old friend," she laughed, patting the dwarf on the shoulder appreciatively. "But enough of this. Shall we go to the tavern and talk there over a pint or two? It's bloody freezing up here. I wish I'd brought some warmer clothing."

Varric laughed. "You should see what Cullen's wearing, Hawke. I swear you'll piss your drawers. I never took him for the furry armor type...Maker, the things people will don when their balls are freezing."

"You can tell me all about it when I have a pint in my hand," Hawke joked, "I'm sure I'll find it funnier. Come on, let's... What's the matter?" Varric hesitated a little. Hawke frowned in confusion, staring at him questioningly. "What, have you kicked the habit or something?"

Varric grinned. "Don't you, eh...Don't you want to say hello to Leliana first?"

Hawke froze, swallowing over the sudden lump in her throat. She had been wondering about that on her way here, wondering if it would be best to stay incognito, not wanting to attract too much attention to her presence. Leliana obviously knew she was coming though and yet she hadn't bothered to come and greet her. Plus what would things be like between them now? Would it be awkward? Strange even? They had already said goodbye to each other too many times before, was there anything else left to say?

"No," Hawke replied finally, staring up at the Keep and sighing. She felt the little flicker in her heart that she always got when near the Orlesian woman fade away. Leliana was no doubt consorting with the likes of Cullen and this Seeker Cassandra. An image of the Leliana that Hawke once knew and loved, befriending the Templar who had put Bethany into the Circle of Magi and the Seeker who had been tailing her burned savagely in Hawke's mind then. A surge of anger shot through her. "No," she said again, firmer this time, her jaw tensing. "I don't want to see her. She's no longer the woman I once loved."

Varric grimaced, hearing harshness in her tone that he hadn't expected. He was obviously as confused as she was as to why Leliana hadn't made more of an effort for her arrival. "I'm sure she eh...she'd like to see you. She's been through a lot, Hawke."

"So have I," Hawke snapped, riling up at once. "So have we all, Varric."

The two of them fell silent then, letting the sudden tension ease off. Varric hung his head, staring at the ground dismally. Lana could tell he was wondering what had happened between them all. They were on the same side, but yet no one was willing to get along. Unable to see him sad, and realising in that moment the extent of her happiness at seeing him again against all odds, Lana placed an arm around his shoulder and shook him to life.

"Come on. Let's go and have a pint like the old days while we wait for Donnic to get in contact."

The dwarf looked up, wearing a wicked grin, looking a lot like his old self. "You're on," he said. "I'll introduce you to a few of my new companions, shall I? I think you'll fit in just fine with this crowd."

Smiling, her heart surging with joy despite the circumstances forcing her to be here, Hawke and Varric bantered happily all the way to Skyhold's drunken establishment, down beside the barracks. The building itself had nothing on The Hanged Man back in Kirkwall (Who could compete with the giant effigy of a man hanging from the rafters covered in blood?) but inside, it was cosy and welcoming, with dancing fires in numerous grates, all sorts of ales and spirits, a singing Minstrel and-

"A Qunari!?" Hawke blurted out loudly, almost choking in her shock as her eyes spotted the horned creature in the corner, talking to a man in Tevinter style armor. "What the—Varric, what have you gotten me into _this_ time!?"

The dwarf wheezed with laughter. "Nothing, Hawke, I promise you. He's one of the good ones. I think you'll get along better than any Qunari you've met in the past."

"You 'think'?" Hawke repeated, "I beheaded his Arishok! Granted, they got a new one in Sten, a better one even, but...Shit! Way to welcome me to Skyhold!"

"Aren't you glad Isabela didn't come with you now?" Varric chuckled. "Don't worry, Hawke. Bull's an agent of the Inquisition. We're all on the same side now." Hawke's glare towards the horned ox-man said otherwise. The dwarf seemed to notice this. "I'll introduce you to him some time, not now though. I'll let you get over the shock first." He chuckled. "Nice bloke. But for now, let's grab a table upstairs and catch up. I want to hear all about your trip to Llomerryn and what pots Rivaini's been dipping her fingers into now."

##

"...so Isabela grabbed him by the neck, slammed his face down into the table and pulled down his breeches for the entire tavern to see!"

Varric and Hawke fell into fits of raucous laughter as she recounted a tale from her two weeks spent with her woman in the mixed bag of a city that was Llomerryn. The table between them rattled loudly as Varric pounded it with his hand, sending a few of the 12 tankards of ale in front of them flying off the end or over onto their side, spilling the dregs at the bottom. Hawke wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes and leaned back in her chair, gazing fondly across at her friend.

"We both missed you, you know," she said then, grinning at him. "Rivain just wasn't the same without you. We didn't get into half as much trouble as we could have."

"Agh, I know. It's so hard to find such a handsome and charming dwarf," Varric joked, "But you and Isabela needed your space. The last thing I wanted to do was listen to you and her going at it again. The damned quest of Alistair's seemed like one big dramatic sex-fest with you two around."

Hawke sniggered. "Yes, sorry about that. But Isabela and I went through some very difficult times back then. We seemed to enjoy the hate sex though. It was almost as though we were arguing on purpose for the sake of it."

"It sure sounded like it at times," Varric chuckled, "But I'm glad you two worked out your differences. And you sound a lot happier now. It was never going to be easy, people that you are. But you pulled it off!"

"Did we?" Hawke wondered, hiccupping drunkenly and looking up to the heavens. "I don't know, old friend. For here I am, alone again, caught up in some bullshit, and Isabela's off gallivanting with a host of greased up sailors at her command, no doubt going after the biggest fish in the sea and trying to screw him over."

"True," Varric laughed, "But judging by the letter that arrived for you this morning, Isabela's missing you more than you know." He withdrew a piece of vellum from his pocket and tossed it across the table to her. "Sorry. Leliana handed it to me earlier and I totally forgot to mention it."

Hawke's hand scrambled across the table excitedly, heartbeat skipping, and her face full of glee. She tore open the already broken seal and unfolded the letter, recognising the type of ink only Isabela used and scanning more, rather crude drawings the pirate had concocted from her collection of filthy thoughts. Eager to hear the latest, Lana's brown eyes began to read hungrily.

 _No idea if this will reach you, sweetness, but Bethany told me you were at Skyhold._

 _I hope you're not expecting me to come save your booty, because I just stole a shit load of goods from a member of the Armada and I'm on my way to flog them in Kirkwall (Varric still knows people there right? Maybe he can put me in contact with someone in the Merchant's Guild and have the meet ready for when I arrive?_

"Already done," Varric said, when Hawke looked up at him questioningly. She smiled in thanks and went back to the letter.

 _I've been acting like a lovesick puppy recently and I'm making myself vomit at the thought. I do miss you though. I can't stop thinking about you. You're going to have to send me some new material soon however because I can't keep masturbating to the same words over and over. Andraste's tits, I need a bit of variety, Hawke! Don't hold back this time. Give me something to really think about while I'm lying in my four-poster alone aboard the ship. The nights are getting rather chilly..._

 _Anyway, I'll let you get back to acting the big balls and saving the world. Don't forget me if you come into any gold. We share things now, right? And I'll try and get into your Estate in Kirkwall if it's still standing to see if there's anything worth sending on to you, but I doubt it. You always did have terrible taste in decorating. Still though, it'll be fun to see if the dicks I carved into the stairwell have stood the sands of time won't it?_

 _Take care of Varric for me. And watch your ass against this Old God Bethany mentioned. I don't like the sound of him, or any God for that matter._

 _Do remember to have fun though,_

 _Love Isabela_

 _(Queen of the Driest Seas and the most sex-deprived Admiral in the fleet at the minute)._

 _P.s. If you see Leliana again, keep your hands to yourself. Remember, sweetness, if I can't sleep around when we're apart then neither can you. This is so unfair!_

Sniggering at the asides from Isabela, Hawke slid the letter into her pocket and shook her head. She knew the Rivaini would have a hard time concentrating without a steady supply of sex to occupy her, and had a feeling that Leliana being close by might bring out her little jealous side once more. _Stupid though,_ Hawke thought to herself, _Leliana couldn't even be bothered to come and greet me. She'd much rather hang around with Zealots and Inquisitors now. After everything we've been through and she can't even find a second for old time's sake?_

Suddenly the tavern Minstrel's song below echoed up to where they were sitting, distracting Lana from her sombre confusions about Leliana.

" _Sera was never quite the quietest girl—  
Her attacks are loud and they're joyful.  
But she knew the ways of nobler men,  
And she knew how to enrage them."_

"Who's this Sera?" Hawke asked Varric, "I've never heard of a Sera in these parts."

The dwarf started to laugh, eyebrows raised. "Sera's eh...some kind of...'friend' of the Inquisitors." When Lana raised her own brow quizzically, Varric chuckled once more. "She's one of my companions here. Fought beside her a few times. Good with a bow."

"Is that so? And she...'enrages nobles', does she?" Hawke asked, repeating a line from the song.

"Not as well as you or Isabela did in Kirkwall," Varric said with a fond wink, "But she and her 'Friends of Red Jenny' do, eh...we'll I don't really know what they do. Honestly, when she starts to talk I tend to just...blank out for a bit."

Lana giggled. "Seriously? She can't be that bad."

"Agh, there's no harm in her," Varric chuckled cheerily, "But she's a lot to take. She talks a mile a minute. Trust me. I'll introduce you sometime, but not right now. I just shook her off...need my head showered for a bit."

Hawke sniggered. "Alright...Is there anyone you're actually _going_ to introduce me to? Or are you still trying to pretend you don't know me?"

"It's not like that, Hawke," Varric apologised, "Honestly, I'm surprised I managed to keep you a secret this long. I half expect Cassandra to come in any second and kill me."

"Let her try," Hawke grunted.

Varric laughed. "She will," he assured her, "Cassandra's more of a human battering ram than Aveline is, and that's saying a lot. You should hear the Inquisitor try and flirt with her, Hawke. It's hilarious. Seeker Pentaghast's face gets redder than an arse on a cold wintery day."

The two of them fell into more fits of giggles again, and helped themselves to more ale.

"So the Inquisitor...likes women too?" Lana ventured, her eyes twinkling. "I wouldn't kick her out of bed."

"But Isabela might kick you if you tried to get her there," Varric laughed, though knowing Hawke was merely toying with the idea rather than ever considering it. "But as to your question, I think not. I think Lavellan just likes winding the Navarran up. Cassandra can be a bit of a dull dud at times. It almost makes me wish we had Sebastian around again...Actually no...No wait it doesn't," he finished with a chuckle. "Remember him? I'd rest easy knowing that _that_ boring bastard stays in Starkhaven for the rest of his days, boring the pants off everyone up there rather than down here."

"Oh Maker! Isabela used to love waking past him in the square in Kirkwall to check her reflection in his shiny armor," Lana giggled.

"I'd forgotten she used to do that!" the dwarf laughed. "Oh Rivaini...Ancestors, I miss having her around. She was always up for a little fun to pass the time. Honestly Hawke, I'm surrounded by a lot of religious folk up here. Some of them have never even gambled a day in their lives!"

"Been trying to lead them astray have you?" Hawke teased. Varric grinned wickedly.

"It's been known to happen," he replied pointedly. "After all, I got _you_ here again to cause trouble with me."

"My friend," Lana replied, raising her drink, "There's nowhere in all of Thedas I'd rather be."

The two of them clinked mugs, ale sloping over the sides, then downed their pints in one.

"So," Varric began, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve and suppressing a burp. "Now that you've got a few much needed pints into you, tell me..."

"Tell you what?" Hawke asked warily with a smirk, wondering where this question was leading.

"Tell me how you really feel about Leliana ignoring your arrival at Skyhold," the dwarf finished.

Hawke froze up a little again at the mention of Leliana's name. A feeling of disappointment overcame her, but she buried it deep down and put on her best face, feigning indifference.

"I couldn't care less," she lied, lying back on her chair and resting her hands behind her head as though she didn't have a trouble in the world. "Leliana can do what she likes, Varric. I'm not going to sit around, crying about the fact that she didn't come to see me, and I'm not going to go running after her either. She's with the Inquisition, and I'm with Isabela. She can go screw Corypheus up the ass for all I care."

"Is that so?" an Orlesian voice asked from behind her, sounding amused. "I'll make sure and give him your best when I see him then."

Lana choked on her ale and almost fell backwards off her seat in surprise. She spun around, her mouth hanging open, face becoming rather red at having been overheard. Sister Leliana was standing behind her, wearing a teasing smirk and sporting a purple cowl and some rather fancy sliver armor.

"L-Lel...?" Lana stuttered, her face flushed with embarrassment. The redheaded Orlesian beauty's bright blue eyes twinkled playfully, never leaving the Champion's.

"Sorry I'm late. Welcome to Skyhold, Hawke...Now what's this you suggested about myself and Corypheus?"


	5. Reunion

"What's the matter, Hawke?" Leliana teased with a playful smile. "Cat got your tongue?"

As Lana struggled to form an adequate response, Varric chuckled and raised himself off his seat, clapping his hands together in conclusion. "Well, I think on that note I'll be going. My job here is done," he sniggered. He patted Lana on the shoulder as he passed and leaned in. "Don't try to kid a kidder, Hawke. I knew deep down you wanted this."

"Bastard. You set me up," Lana smiled, shaking her head at the mischievous look on the dwarf's face.

"Madam! You wound me!" Varric joked in mock offence.

"I'm about to," Hawke replied, mimicking Aveline's words from years before. Varric walked off laughing, and Lana turned her attention back to Leliana then, who had taken up the dwarf's vacated spot.

 _I can't believe she's really here. Maker, why can't I think of something to say?_

"Two glasses of wine," the Orlesian beauty requested off the passing waitress, before her eyes met Hawke's once more, as bright and piercing as ever. Lana shivered, still not over the shock (or the embarrassment) of her sudden appearance. Leliana lowered her hood.

"Listen," Lana began, squirming uncomfortably in her chair. "About what I said there—"

"Don't worry about it," Leliana interrupted, wearing a little grin. "It's not the first time I've heard you subtly insult me." They both chuckled. "Didn't think I would show?"

"I had my doubts," Lana smiled, "After all, things haven't exactly ever been black and white between us have they?"

Leliana's smile faltered. "No," she agreed ruefully. "They haven't...But I still care about you, Lana. That's never going to change."

Hawke was glad that the waitress interrupted them then, to place their glasses of wine down on the already overflowing table. A few tense seconds passed as they waited for the woman pour and disappear back down the stairs of the tavern, leaving them alone once more. Hawke began to pick at the peeling end of the wooden table with her nail, concentrating intently on it, avoiding looking up at all cost.

 _Maker, this is more awkward than making small talk with a whore in a brothel!_

"You look...different," she offered then, finally feeling brave enough to meet Leliana's gaze for a fleeting moment. Even now she had to fight down the feelings of attraction that resurfaced inside her at seeing Sister Leliana in the flesh. They had such a long and amorous history together after all, so many near misses and 'I love yous' that it was hard not to feel at least a flicker of the old flames that used to burn brightly.

"I'm not sure that is a compliment exactly," the former Bard chuckled. Her face fell then, as though she had forgotten how to laugh these past months. She seemed so hardened now, sombre almost. She looked as tired as Lana felt. "I haven't exactly been myself lately."

"I heard," Lana replied kindly, "Varric informed me of The Divine's death...I'm so sorry, Lel." She reached across the table, surprised at her own boldness, and covered Leliana's left hand with her right in an attempt at comfort. It was easier than she expected, as though no time at all between them had passed. It felt familiar, yet foreign at the same time. Lana knew, as easy as it seemed to reach out to her though, that things were never going to be simple between them. She had to be careful not to complicate matters again. They had toyed with the notion of 'us' more times than Isabela had toyed with herself.

 _Which is a lot,_ Hawke joked inwardly. _Isabela's probably 'toying' with herself right this second as a matter of fact. I must remember to write her another letter. Maker's Breath is she ever NOT turned on? There's never an off switch with pirates is there?_

Pulling her attention away from Isabela then (somehow it always felt like she was cheating on her when in Leliana's presence, even when they were only talking like now), Hawke stroked the Orlesian woman's soft skin on the back of her pale hand and added: "I should have been here for you. I know how close you and Justinia were."

She watched as Leliana swallowed hard. Burdened by the uncomfortable topic, she stared down at Lana's hand resting over hers, determined not to give away any sign of weakness.

"Thank you," Leliana whispered weakly in reply, her head bowed in grief, "But it's not your job to look out for me, Lana... You belong to another."

"I know, but it's always my hope to see you happy, Lel," Hawke reassured her with a smile, squeezing the woman's scarred hand. "After all," she said, staring down at the burn marks that she knew snaked all the way up Leliana's left forearm and remembering the day she got them. "You were always there for me when I needed you most."

Leliana managed a smile again then, recalling the last time the two of them had bid their goodbyes. It had been in Kirkwall, not long after the outbreak of the Mage-Templar war. Hawke and her sister Bethany had been undercover as Templars, and somehow they all found themselves in Leandra Hawke's old room in their Estate in Kirkwall, after a recent battle that they'd gotten caught up in. Lana had treated Leliana's wounds after she had been injured in conflict with Blood Mages, and in return, Leliana had helped both Hawkes to escape and get back to Isabela and co before their final battle with Aurelian Titus.

"I still have the dagger you gave me that day, you know," Leliana admitted, gazing at her fondly, making Hawke's heart do a few back flips. "'The Hawke's Key' as you called it."

"Good," Lana grinned, recalling the blade she had used to 'kill' Corypheus the first time in The Deep Roads. "It was a gift, Lel. Glad to see it's still a meaningful one."

"It is. Hawke, I'm...I'm so sorry I didn't greet you on your arrival here at Skyhold," Leliana apologised then, finally meeting Hawke's chocolate-brown eyes once more. "Forgive me, it was ignorant and foolish. Truth be told...I...I didn't know what I would say if I ever saw you again. I know what I _want_ to say to you. What I'd love to say more than anything in the world but...it wouldn't be fair. Your heart's been torn in two for far too long. I can't do that to you again."

Hawke sighed sadly, retracting her hand from across the table, feeling uncomfortable at being so intimate with her then. _And yet here I am,_ she thought to herself, _I wish I could ignore my feelings for her, but balls! They just keep creeping up time and time again! Will I ever be able to let her go completely?_

"Leliana," Lana pleaded painfully, her jaw tightening as her heart broke for what seemed like the millionth time over her unconditional love for the woman that would never be enough in comparison to what she felt for her significant pirate other. "I love Isabela...You can't just...just _keep_ coming back into my life after so long apart and expect me to make this decision over and over again, I—I can't—I-!"

"I know," Leliana interrupted, longingly stretching across the table herself this time and taking Lana's hand again to soothe her, seeing she was beginning to get worked up. "And I don't expect you to. Maker, this is _so_ selfish of me! Maybe...Maybe I should never have come. I should have refused Varric when he arranged for us to meet and stayed in the tower like I had originally planned. But I... _missed_ you."

Leliana took a sip of her wine then, staring out the tavern window at a flock of birds flying in the horizon, as though she wanted some sort of a distraction from meeting Lana's eyes. It was a few moments before Hawke could find the words to respond. She observed the Orlesian Bard (turned Spymaster) and tried to put her finger on why Leliana seemed so bitter now, so distant. Was there really nothing of the old her, buried inside this cold exterior? She had changed so much in the time they had been apart that Lana was struggling to find the Leliana she once knew, hidden under the hard outer shell that she seemed to have donned. The woman's natural charm had become shrouded in grief and despair.

"Don't say that," Hawke whispered sympathetically, using both her hands to hold Leliana's now. "You have no idea how good it feels to see you again, Lel. It would have hurt me more had you stayed away, no matter what lies I told Varric when he asked. He knows me too well."

Leliana smiled then. It seemed to take so much effort for her to do so now. Suddenly that smile faded. "A ring..." she muttered, noticing for the first time the golden band with a black stone on Lana's left hand. She brushed it with her fingers. "You're...You got _married!?_ "

"What? No!" Hawke chuckled, "I-I-I mean, technically I got e-e-engaged but...but I said no," she stammered, laughing at the notion and at her own voice, which had suddenly gone all high-pitched. This was the most awkward conversation she could remember to date. She had never been this speechless around Leliana, and wished to The Maker in that moment that Varric hadn't arranged a secret meet between them at all. "Isabela and I are not made for marriage. I...I just kept the ring because she gave it to me," Lana finished weakly. "It was a...err...gift."

This seemed to confuse Leliana. _She's not the only one,_ thought Hawke, rolling her eyes. _This all must sound absolutely ridiculous to everyone but Isabela and I._

"How is Bethany?" Leliana blurted out suddenly, sliding her hand out from under Hawke's then with the quick change of subject. She seemed a little stung by Lana's revelation. Her expression became a lot colder than Hawke was accustomed to. She was wearing this newfound mask of ice again.

"Oh...er...Fine," Hawke replied vaguely, "Although I need to speak with the Inquisitor about a matter. As I understand it she can close Fade Rifts? There's one beside my home that I'd appreciate being sealed. I don't much like the idea of leaving what's left of my family first in line to any demons that may spill out."

"Understood. I'll have a word with her," Leliana promised in a businesslike tone, with none of her usual softness. "Varric finally told me where you've been hiding all this time. No small feat keeping it from me. I'm impressed."

"I trust Varric with my life," Lana replied smugly. She almost heard the 'But not you anymore' ending in her head. She was sure Leliana had heard the unspoken words too.

"Understood. And don't worry, I'll be discreet when issuing the information. I care about your safety as much as he does, don't forget."

"Thank you," Lana replied gratefully, stunned by Leliana's words.

 _Even after all this time?_

Silence fell over them once more. Not knowing how to break it, Hawke took a drink of her own wine then, tactfully observing Leliana over the rim of the glass. Again, noticing the woman's seemingly permanent frown, she had half a mind to ask her what was really bothering her, but wrestled the question back. _What has happened to her?_ Hawke wondered sorrowfully. _What became of the beautiful redheaded Bard that I fell in love with all those years ago in Lothering? She's so harsh now...Sour and resentful even. The Divine's death mustn't be the only thing troubling her._ Lana opened her mouth to ask Leliana again what else was on her mind, and then closed it in defeat like before. They weren't as close as they had been once. It was none of her business, and Hawke had a feeling that Leliana wouldn't tell her, even if she did pluck up enough courage to probe.

"Well...I must be getting back," Leliana said suddenly, getting to her feet and leaving almost a full glass of wine on the table. "You know what they say about mice when the cat is away, no?"

Hawke jumped to her feet too then, a little surprised at the abrupt ending to their reunion. "Oh...Ok..." she stammered, "Why am I suddenly getting the feeling that no one here wants to be seen in my company?"

Even Varric couldn't leave quick enough, she noted, and he was the one who had suggested drinking upstairs in the tavern out of the way, despite there being plenty of tables on the ground floor that would have done nicely.

"People are just being precautious, I'm sure," Leliana replied evasively.

"Don't give me that, Lel," Lana snapped, a little angry now, "I feel like I'm being palmed off from one Inquisition member to another. Balls, am I really that much of a scoundrel that even my closest friends don't want to associate with me now?"

"Lana, that's not—"

"Meanwhile you all fraternise with the likes of Cullen and co like they're some sort of heroes," Hawke continued, talking over her loudly. "I should have known you two were planning something when I saw you working together back in The Free Marches the day you got that scar on your arm," she said through gritted teeth. She could feel herself beginning to get upset. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was her tiredness after travelling, but something nasty and snapping was rising up inside her and scorching her insides.

"Cullen is part of the Inquisition by his own doing, not mine," Leliana replied, equally as angry now. "But yes, I worked alongside him before. I do what I have to, just like you do."

"I was _bribed_ by the Templars in Kirkwall, Lel," Hawke countered, frowning angrily, "I didn't _choose_ to work with Cullen, I was forced to. They had my sister held captive in the Circle lest you forget. Maker, the Chantry itself even tried to tear _us_ apart back in Lothering before the Blight! But how quickly you forget...I see you're head's still lodged firmly up The Maker's ass."

"Regardless of what happened in the past, Lana, we're on the same side now!" Leliana argued. "We're not the Chantry. This is something bigger. Much bigger!"

"That's what worries me," Hawke said smartly. "Mages? Templars? Qunari? And now Grey Wardens? The whole thing stinks like Kirkwall, Lel. How can you not see that?"

"Because I have faith!" the Spymaster yelled then, slamming her hand down on the table causing a few tankards to clatter to the ground. The music stopped down below, mid-song. Half the tavern fell quiet all of a sudden. "Leave it!" Leliana snarled at the waitress, who had rushed upstairs to clean up the mess. The terrified woman sprinted back down the stairs again, as Leliana rounded on Hawke once more. "Faith, Lana! Like I was saying. The one thing you seem to have lacked your entire life and that you make up for in ale and dirty jokes! Don't you dare make me feel guilty about forming the Inquisition, while you and Isabela were off thieving and killing in the East!"

"Leave her out of this!" Hawke snarled, both women in each other's faces now, out of control. This reunion had suddenly taken a turn for the worse. "I didn't travel all this way to argue with you. Maybe Isabela was right...Maybe I shouldn't have come. But I suppose I never really had a choice in that either, did I?"

"No I don't suppose you did! Maybe you should have killed Corypheus properly the first time and none of us would be here," an overly harsh Leliana attacked her with.

Suddenly someone appeared at the top of the stairs, sounding out of breath as though they had been running.

"What's going on here?"

It was the Inquisitor.

Lana bit her tongue then, unwilling to say any more as a muscle twitched angrily in her jaw. She was shaking. Furious, she turned away from Leliana and sidestepped the Inquisitor, walking towards the stairs.

"Hawke, wait! I—"Leliana tried to grab Hawke's arm but the woman shook her off.

"You need my help," Hawke reminded her, turning back, her eyes burning with a white hot rage. "I know I've made mistakes, Leliana, but I'm trying my best to clear them up. I may not be doing it for religious reasons, but why should that make me any less worthy than you lot?"

"Hawke, I didn't mean—"

"Why in Andraste's name am I being treated like some sort of infidel, while the likes of Cullen is strutting around like a peacock?" Hawke shouted, "He was there too, you know! I wasn't the only one responsible. He sided with the Templars and Knight-Commander Meredith in Kirkwall and threw my sister into the Circle of Magi! I haven't forgotten! Which is more than I can say for you...And you call yourself Bethany's friend? _My_ friend?"

"Lana!" Leliana called in warning, holding her tightly and not letting her storm off, down to the now full, eagerly-listening tavern below. The noise of the other patrons had disappeared and some people were even looking up to the balconies, wondering just who in all of Thedas the much feared Spymaster Leliana was arguing with. They had never heard of anyone have the balls to even look at her wrongly, never mind challenge her. Hawke knew it was in her benefit to stay hidden in her line of work, but in that moment she didn't care. The injustice of this whole situation riled up inside her and pissed her off to the back teeth. Why in The Maker's name should she be worried about hiding, when plenty of people were there in Kirkwall when the fighting had broken out? Why was she the only one being blamed and shamed for it? Cullen was equally as guilty was he not? Anders? Meredith? Many of the Templars and Mages who resided within these very walls had fought in the war too hadn't they? Yet Lana, who had tried her best more than anyone to keep the bastarding peace, was being hidden in the topmost part of a dusty tavern and holding meetings on the rafters like she was some disgusting little secret, longed to be forgotten by all who knew her.

"Shit," Hawke cursed then, holding her forehead, her heart thumping as she felt the warmth of Leliana's tight grasp on her arm. "This isn't how I imagined seeing you again," she gasped, shaking her head and massaging her temples. "I'm so sorry, Lel...I think the drink's gone to my head...I-I didn't mean to...I've just been in hiding for too long. It's starting to grate on my nerves."

"I know," Leliana replied breathlessly. She pulled her backwards, away from the stairs so that no one could see but the Inquisitor, and wrapped her arms around Lana from behind, holding her in a warm, strangely comforting restraint. "You don't have to explain yourself to me," she whispered in her ear. "I've been hiding myself away too after Justinia's death. It just seemed easier than dealing with it."

"I...I'm sorry. I need to go," Hawke sighed, grasping the arms around her chest tightly trying to pry them off, feeling her eyes well with tears despite her best attempts at fighting them. "Donnic should be in Ferelden soon to meet with me...And I've already embarrassed myself enough for one day."

"Stay," Leliana whispered, still not lessening her grip on her despite Lana's attempts to break free. "I'm sorry I offended you. I shouldn't have..."

"I was hoping you'd stay too, Hawke," Lavellan interrupted gently, "I've organised a room for you here. It's on the top floor. Warden Donnic's raven will find you there, don't worry. And she's right, Leliana. We have no right to treat her like this, like she's done something wrong. Cassandra already found out she's here. I'm only after tearing her off Varric. She's fuming. I'm sure she'll want to question Hawke herself."

Hawke still looked in two minds as she continued to try and escape from Leliana's embrace.

"Stay, Lana. You can't go now..." Leliana begged. Instinctively and caught up in the moment, she brushed a light kiss against the back of the woman's neck, sending shivers down Lana's spine. The kiss seemed to stun them both. Lana froze. "We do need you," Leliana continued, " _I need you..._ And you're the only one Donnic trusts with this information."

Hawke took a few deep breaths, her eyes closed, and finally she exhaled in defeat. "Fine," she relented softly, in a small voice. "I'll stay."

"Good," Ellana said with a smile. "Thank you, Champion."

"I'll let you know when I hear from Donnic," Lana informed her. "Now let me go, Leliana...It still hurts having you this close after all this time."

She felt Leliana's arms release her at once, and avoided the woman's face, instead walking towards the windowsill of the tavern and looking out at the snow-covered mountains. After a few seconds, the floorboards creak behind her and she heard Leliana disappear down the stairs, without another word. A huge weight was lifted off Lana's heart then and she heaved a shaky breath to steady her nerves, clutching the windowsill tightly. The Inquisition was completely foreign to her, as was anything religious. In one breath she envied the amount of faith Leliana could have in The Maker, but in the other (the one spirited by Isabela and all that she stood for) Hawke couldn't comprehend the notion of having faith in something so pointless as a forsaken God.

 _It's all bullshit,_ she told herself. _Still though, Leliana was prepared to argue with me. She must feel rather strongly about it. Either that, or she's just doing what she thinks The Divine would have wanted her to...And how could I fault her for that?_

"Are you alright?" the Inquisitor asked, concerned. Clearly she hadn't realised just how close Leliana and Hawk had been until just now. The fleeting kiss Leliana had placed on the nape of Lana's neck had surprised her, almost as much as the two involved.

"Don't worry about me," Hawke replied, her back to her as she continued gazing out the window. "I'll be fine."

"I hope so," Ellana replied kindly, "I'll speak to Leliana. You are _my_ guest here. She shouldn't have spoken to you like that. We're very grateful to have you here helping us out, Hawke. Varric's told me a little about you. I know how much you've risked, coming out into the open like this."

"Don't mention it. It's partly my mess after all," Lana said, finally turning back and throwing her a smile and a playful wink. "And just...do me a favour. Leave Leliana to her thoughts? She's been through enough. Let her have this one."

"Understood," Ellana said with a nod. "I hope she didn't offend you though. After all, you're the closest anyone has come to defeating Corypheus. Is there anything else I can get you before I take my leave? I hate to dash on again, but I'm afraid I have some urgent matters to attend to in the throne room."

"No thank you. I won't keep you. Call by my room if you have time later and wish to talk though."

"As you wish, Serah Hawke. Good day to you...Oh, and watch out for Cole," Lavellan finished up with an apologetic smile, "He likes to spend time up in the attic. There's no harm in him, it's just a bit frightening to wake up with him sitting at the end of your bed, describing your emotions. He's only curious though, I promise."

Hawke chuckled, "Thanks for the warning," she replied with a grin. "I'll keep a lookout...Inquisitor."

"Champion."

Lana heard the young woman descend the steps into the lower tavern then, and the Minstrel struck up a song at once, as the establishment returned to business as normal under the Inquisitor's orders. Realising there was no point in standing here, and wanting nothing more than to sleep for days, Hawke climbed up the next set of stairs and followed the directions to her temporary quarters as the Inquisitor had shown her. The room was rather grand for a tavern. Seeing the massive four-poster bed in the centre, she closed the door, stripped off as much as she could, littering the floor with a trail of clothes, and collapsed onto the bed face first, absolutely exhausted by the day's events.


	6. Reconciliation

**_A/N: This is probably one of my favourite chapters so far. I think this story needs more of Dorian in it :P Thanks for the reviews guys. Hope you like the latest! ;)_**

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 ** _UPDATED: Sorry for the brief on-going hiatus guys. I'm currently dealing with a family bereavement and can't really face the prospect of writing again just yet. This story is still very much in my plans though. Just leaving an update to let you all know I have not abandoned it, and hope you will bear with me until I feel ready to get back to into it again. Thank you! :)_**

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The next morning, bright and early, Hawke walked the longer, less crowded way into the Keep, and climbed the tallest of Skyhold's spires towards Leliana's hideout after asking directions from a well-dressed Tevinter Mage by the name of Dorian. He was very amusing, charming the pants off her, all with one cheeky glance over the top of his book.

"So, _you're_ the Champion of Kirkwall?" Dorian had greeted her, in the sultriest of voices, "For once Varric's exaggerations are proved true." His eyes narrowed, surveying her intently.

"And _you're_ the Tevinter?" Hawke replied with a smile, mimicking his jaunty tone.

"What gave me away?" the man chuckled.

"The sparkly clothes," Hawke admitted, eyeing them up uncertainly. "No self-respecting Ferelden would consciously dress like that!"

"Ouch!" Dorian grinned, "You got me! But I don't think there's such a thing as a self-respecting Ferelden," he teased, "This is the 'Doglands' after all. A nickname like that didn't pick itself!"

"Neither did your outfit," Hawke countered, "Tell me, did you always have bad taste? Or was it only after your mother stopped dressing you?"

"Oh, definitely the mother thing," the Mage joked, entertained by her banter. "Now she can't even bear to look at me."

"Aww. Blind her with all your shiny accessories did you?"

Dorian snorted. "My my, you _are_ a sharp one," he approved, "I've heard a lot about you from our mutual dwarven friend. You really are a _fascinating_ creature!"

Hawke smirked. "Not the best compliment I've ever received, but I'll take it," she joked, "Isn't everyone supposed to be running scared from me though? I'm the big bad wolf who blew up Kirkwall and sent the world into darkness, remember?"

Dorian laughed heartily and tossed his book onto the table, getting to his feet. Hawke had drawn his attention instead now. She was much more interesting. Having read a about her in one of Varric's books, it was hard to miss an opportunity to converse with the hero in the flesh.

"Indeed," he grinned, leaning on the rotunda banister beside her with one arm, crossing one leg over the other in a relaxed stance. "Though the way I hear it, you played no part in the actual 'blowing up' of the Chantry. Such a shame! Seems like a wasted opportunity if you ask me."

Lana's smirk became rather mischievous. "Well, maybe I had more of a hand in it that I let on," she replied mysteriously, eyes twinkling. "After all, how in all of Thedas did an apostate Mage in hiding manage to get all those ingredients for the explosives by himself?"

Dorian seemed pleased by this.

"Ha! Then it seems we are on the same page, dear woman! I had thought as much myself," he smiled, "This Anders didn't seem the most intelligent of blokes. And you do have a way of... _finding things_...do you not? Apart from trouble, I mean."

"I have my ways," Hawke winked playfully, "Is there a particular reason you're asking?"

"Hmm...How are you at finding _people_?" Dorian asked interestedly, stroking his moustache. "I have a feeling someone's looking for me...And I don't want them to find me, if you catch my drift."

"Ok," Hawke replied, eyebrows narrowing. "I'm going to need more information than that I'm afraid, otherwise my talents of procurement will be severely wasted, along with my time."

Dorian chuckled. "Of course, Champion Hawke. I wouldn't dream of letting you just stab around in the dark. Though the details of such a task are...of a rather personal nature. Meet me later for a pint if you like, and we'll discuss it further."

"That seems fair," Lana replied, "I'll see if I have the time. Drinks on you though!"

The Tevinter laughed. "I wouldn't have it any other way!"

"Great! In the mean time, can you point me in Spymaster Leliana's direction? I need to speak with her."

"Indeed good woman! Follow this spirally staircase to the very top." He pointed to it beside the bookcase. "Careful she doesn't have you killed before you get there though. She's a dangerous woman, and doesn't appreciate unwanted guests."

" _I'm_ a dangerous woman," Hawke replied with a cheeky grin.

"Hmm, yes. The flower you're holding just screams 'danger'," Dorian mocked, his eyes twinkling.

"Well played," Lana relented, giving him that one. "But Leliana and I are old friends. I'll be fine."

"Be my guest then," Dorian smiled, "Don't say I didn't warn you though. She's pretty cranky in the mornings...Actually, she's pretty cranky all the time. 'Friends' you say? Maybe you can cheer her up then...See you later, Warmonger."

"Oh I intend to try," Hawke said, "See you later...'Sparkler'.

The Mage laughed loudly. "Oh _touché!_ " called after her. "I see Varric's been keeping you up to date!"

"Varric?" Hawke yelled back from half way up the stairs. "Why whatever do you mean, Dorian? I was just describing your outfit!"

Dorian's chuckles echoed up from the floor below, as Hawke, smiling to herself, climbed the steep spiral staircase. Unlike the last Tevinter she had met in the form of Aurelian Titus, this one was rather enjoyable. _Let's hope the former stays dead,_ Lana thought then, remembering her battle on Alistair's behalf with the bastard of a made a mental note to take Dorian up on his drink offer later. If no one was going to introduce her to the Inquisitor's companions, she would have to use some of that Maker-given charm she possessed. _But stay away from the Qunari,_ she reminded herself. _Hanging out with a Vint is a good way to do that right? Sound tactics, Lana. Play it smart._

Fingering the small flower in her hand, and thinking back to her reunion with Leliana yesterday then, she cringed. That wasn't how it was supposed to go. _Maker, why can't anything ever be straightforward with us?_ Her hangover was niggling at her annoyingly. She could feel the beginnings of a migraine, but wanted to bury the hatchet with Leliana however she could. They never argued. That wasn't their style. It was strange to feel like this towards her, to feel so distant. Hawke wanted to mend their relationship anyway she could. The sexual tension between them had erupted into full blown, old-fashioned tension, and neither woman knew how to cope. Lana didn't blame Leliana for the things she had said, but it did make her see just how deep the woman seemed to have succumbed to her grief. There was nothing left of the sweet, loving, free-spirited Bard she had once been.

 _The Divine really meant that much to her,_ Hawke thought to herself sadly as she ascended the concrete, spiral staircase towards the sound of ravens overhead. _And so did the Hero of Ferelden._ They very rarely spoke of Navarre. It had been little over a year since Leliana hard learned of her death. There was a white tomb for her in Weisshaupt Fortress that Hawke had had the pleasure of setting eyes on during her brief stint there during Alistair's quest to find his father. Now, it seemed Leliana had buried all notions of her love, and her dearest friend Justinia, by hiding herself away at the peak of this nest, high above the rest of the word, with only her secrets and self for company.

When she neared the top, an echo of Leliana's soft Orlesian accent could be heard above. For a second, Lana thought she might be talking to someone, then realised Leliana was actually muttering something of a monologue, or a prayer of some sort. Not wanting to disturb her while she was in meditation, Hawke quietly leaned on the table by the door to the balcony outside, watching the woman crouched over in front of a statue beside the rotunda. She listened, hearing the raw emotion in Sister Leliana's voice as she spoke to The Maker, wondering how the helpless, sorrowful tone she used had escaped her notice the day before.

 _I wasn't exactly sober though, was I? Cheers Varric!_

"Maker," Leliana continued, oblivious to Hawke waiting by her desk, listening intently. "Watch over Lana Hawke as she attempts to make amends for a mistake that was never hers. I beg your forgiveness for how I treated her when we met again for the first time in over a year. I should never have taken my grief and my anger out on her. She deserves better than that. I...I hate loving her as much as I do. It hurts, and I know it's hard on her too. She loves me...just not as much as she loves another. Protect her from harm and make sure that she returns to Isabela in one piece. I already know what it feels like to lose the one I love most in the world, I would hate to see either of them feel that pain..."

As Leliana continued to speak, Lana's heart gradually began to shatter. She suddenly became conscious of the fact that she really shouldn't be eavesdropping on something so personal. It struck her in that moment just how much this woman actually did love her, and it killed her knowing she would never be able to return enough of that love, as bound as she was to Isabela.

 _But I do love her all the same,_ she thought longingly. Despite the fact that Isabela owned her heart, it still didn't seem to make a difference in her adoration for Leliana. _Can you love two people at once, just not in the same way? I never thought I was capable of loving anyone until these two women came along._

Ashamed at herself for listening now, Lana stood up straight and turned to retreat back downstairs, trying to be as silent as possible so as not to disturb Leliana. Just as did so, she lost her footing on a wet splodge of watery bird shit and was suddenly thrown off balance. "Wow!"

She slid comically into the air, landing flat on her back, and smacked her head of the ground with a thud.

"Who's there?" Leliana called from somewhere overhead.

"Ow shit!" Lana groaned, "Literally!"

She grimaced, holding her head in her arms, feeling as though she'd cracked her skull in two. The sound of footsteps got nearer then.

"Lana?" Her eyes found her, lying on the floor. "What are you...? Maker's Breath, what happened to you? Are you alright?"

Hawke opened her eyes and stared up at the upside-down head that belonged to the Spymaster. "Sorry," she moaned, her eyes filling with tears. "I was...You were praying and...I didn't want to interrupt you."

"What happened?" Leliana asked again, sounding as though she was trying very hard not to laugh now.

"Slipped on some shit!" Hawke growled, "Dorian didn't mention you worked among a mountain of raven droppings."

Leliana couldn't hold her chuckle in any longer. "His idea of a joke," she laughed, "You're not the first. The Inquisitor did the exact same thing the first time she came up here." She giggled, and then finally took pity on her. "Come here. I'll help you up." Hawke allowed to the woman to slip her helpful hands underneath her arms and scoop her back up onto her feet. "Here, why don't you sit down? Your head is bleeding and your clothes are a mess. I'll get a cloth."

As Hawke half-collapsed onto the wooden desk chair, Leliana rushed around the rotunda, as the ravens squawked overhead. _Little bastards,_ Hawke cursed, staring up at them. The sound of water followed, and moments later Leliana ran back with a damp cloth that she immediately brought to Lana's cracked head and held pressure on it.

"Ouch! Thanks," Lana winced, grimacing in pain. "This is the last thing my blasted hangover needed."

"Maybe so," Leliana giggled, sounding much like her old self. "But I definitely needed the laugh, so thank you. Andraste's Grace, you're a menace!"

"I was trying to be quiet. Oh...and speaking of Andraste's Grace," Hawke mentioned then. "I brought this for you." She held up the broken stem of Leliana's favourite flower that she had been carrying and sighed, seeing the petals had been squashed and torn due to her fall. It now hung rather weakly in her hand, swinging pathetically. "Sorry...must have sat on it. Me and my big ass!"

"You did fall with quite a thud," the Orlesian woman giggled, "Are you sure you didn't injure something else?"

"Just my pride," Hawke chuckled, "Can we keep this between us please? I'd rather not have Varric add it to another one of his books about me."

Leliana laughed. "Don't worry. It'll be our little secret," she promised, "And thank you for the flower. I can't believe you remembered it's my favourite."

"Course I did," Lana said, grinning up at her. As dark brown eyes met bright blue ones then, both women lost themselves for a moment. After a few seconds of sheer bliss and fleeting, intoxicating sensations of attraction, Leliana cleared her throat and retracted the cloth from Hawke's head. She stepped back away from her as though she was contagious.

"Um...D-did you need something?" she asked distractedly, busying herself with the number of letters and other correspondence on her desk, shuffling them away into a drawer as though they were top secret. Hawke watched her, smiling at the sight of such a beautiful woman, whom she had just caught praying for nothing more than her well-being and, more surprisingly, that of Isabela's.

"I...I guess not," Lana replied gently, "I just wanted to give you the flower to make up for yesterday. Sorry, Lel. I was tired and tipsy when we met. Not a good combination."

"I'm the one who needs to apologise, Lana," Leliana replied sincerely, with a delicate smile much like the one she used to wear. "I've just been so consumed with my work and...and with everything, that I...Maker, listen to me rambling on. You don't want to hear my problems. Let me just say that I'm very sorry. I missed you more than you know, and I had no right to be so angry towards you. You've done more than most to help this cause. Forgive me, Lana."

"Lel—"

"And sorry for the kiss as well, I-I don't know what came over—"

"Lel!"

Hawke got to her feet and crossed the distance between them, taking Leliana's hands in hers. She gave her a little peck on the lips to silence her, and grinned at the woman, meeting her eyes once more, seeing they were full to the brim of worry.

"It's alright," Lana said softly, as Leliana was stunned into silence by the fleeting touch of her lips. "You don't owe me anything. Things are what they are between us. There _is_ no explanation."

Finally, Leliana found her smile once more. "Thank you," she replied, her cheeks turning scarlet with embarrassment. She released Lana's hands and started to busy herself once more, looking rather flushed. "Have you heard from Warden Donnic yet?"

"I have," Hawke replied, "He wants to meet the Inquisitor and I in Crestwood. Can you have your scouts survey the area beforehand so that I know I'm not running into an ambush?"

"Already done," Leliana informed her. "The roads are relatively clear for now. I have Scout Harding positioned there with a few others. They'll inform me if the situation changes."

"Good, then I'll meet Ellana there and whoever else she wants to bring. I'll head by myself and meet them at Crestwood shore when they are ready. Donnic and I have a lot of catching up to do beforehand."

"Of course," Leliana replied.

Once business was concluded between them, both women stood awkwardly in the room, wondering what to say next.

"Well..."

"Of course," Leliana finished. "I'll... see you later then."

"Oh...Yes...Later," Lana replied. "See you..."

Needing no further encouragement (and tiptoeing carefully now), Hawke rushed back down the stairs as fast as she could without looking back. As soon as she reached the bottom and exited into daylight, she started over-thinking things.

 _Maker, why did I kiss her?_ She wondered, scratching her head. There had been nothing sexual in it. It had been a friend kiss, nothing more. Something to comfort Leliana and stop her from beating herself up about yet another thing to worry about. She was stressed out. Hawke had needed to reassure her that they were alright, and a kiss seemed like the only way to do that at the time. _Besides, it was so virginal and chaste that it barely even counts!_ She thought to herself.

The conclusion stuck uncomfortably in her throat, and she wondered that if had she seen Isabela do the same thing, would it have mattered more then?

###

Kirkwall: The City of Chains.

 _More like The City of Brains,_ Isabela joked, shooing a piece of some poor soul's insides off the end of her toe and kicking his head a safe distance away. She turned her foot on its side and wiped the congealed blood from her boots with disgust. _Yuck! These are my good ones too!_ She and her crew had just finished flogging the crates they had stolen from Ser Tadeus to one of Varric's old contacts, and made a pretty sum of coin in doing so.

"Admiral! Over here! You might want to take a look at this."

Isabela passed her other men and jogged to Jackson's side, across what had once been the market square. She followed his gaze to what was now clear was the body of the decapitated head she had kicked moments before.

"Poor sod," she sighed, staring down at him. "He never had a chance by the looks of it."

"But look what he was carrying," Jackson pointed out, grinning. He and Isabela stared at the item in shock, and then back at each other. They burst out laughing.

"Well, well, well," Isabela chuckled, thoroughly amused. She reached down and pried from the dead man's stiff fingers, a tiny broken frame, with a portrait of none other than a younger and more carefree Lana Hawke. "Someone's got a little crush, haven't they?"

"Probably thought the frame was worth something," Jackson observed, seeing the heavily jewelled, solid gold, his eyes lighting up.

"And figured Hawke wasn't particularly bad to look at on a long, lonely night," Isabela added, tracing Lana's face lovingly with her finger through the broken glass. They both fell into fits of laughter. "Maker, I wish she was here for this! She'd have found it hilarious!"

Isabela recognised this portrait as one of Leandra Hawke's old dusty collection that she had kept in her bedroom. It was the one that had been placed face down on her nightstand, as though Lana's mother couldn't bear the thought of looking at it any longer.

 _Probably out of her guilty conscience. Bitch...She never did have much love for her eldest._

"Come on," Isabela ordered her men then. "The old Hawke Estate's around this corner."

"You keeping that, Boss?" Sprug teased, gesturing to the portrait. "Otherwise I wouldn't mind having it for the same reason as this man. I could slip it down me trousers lovely!"

The pirates around them laughed, then ceased immediately as Isabela spun around in a flash of lightening and grabbed Sprug by the neck with her free hand, boiling in white hot, sexually-deprived fury.

"Say that again, Sprug. To my face this time!" she growled, squeezing the tendons in his neck.

"I-I was just joking, Admiral!" Sprug spluttered, embarrassed now. His eyes were almost bulging out of their sockets. "I-I didn't mean nothing by it! I swear!"

"Course you didn't, you slimy bastard," Isabela humoured him, her amber eyes alight with danger. "But I hear you crack on my woman one more time, and I'll cut off your balls. Got it?"

"G-got it!" a now purple Sprug choked.

Isabela released him with a shove then and he fell on his ass, much to the enjoyment of the rest of the crew. She took the picture of Lana out of its broken frame, tucked it into her cleavage, feeling her heart flutter. _Maker, even this is making me wet._ She then tossed Jackson the frame. "You want it? Keep it! Let's get going, scumbags," she ordered then. "Before Sprug wets his pants."

Sprug muttered something behind her that sounded like 'only a joke', before Jackson slapped him on the back of the head.

"Don't mess with the Admiral when she's on a dry spell," he warned, tucking the golden frame into his satchel. "She'll skin you alive, son. Isabela can't function without a steady supply of sex."

"Well, neither can I!" Sprug retorted huffily. "I didn't sign on to scamper about Kirkwall in the dead of night when there's wet girls in Antivan brothels. There's bloody Mages and everything out 'ere! Scares the tits out of me!"

"Shit yourself on your own time, Sprug," Isabela called back, rolling her eyes. _Bloody coward!_ "If you don't want the coin I'm paying you then you're free to go. Jackson can have your share."

"Piss off!" Sprug retorted with a spit on the ground. "I'm staying! This massive hunk of beef ain't getting anywhere near my gold!"

"This massive hunk of beef will cave your skull in if you ever call him that again," Jackson grunted in return, his nostrils flaring. Sprug shuddered, and put a few more people between him and the giant.

"We're here," Isabela informed them.

Her merry band of pirates stopped outside a dilapidated building, looking up at it in awe. It was clear it had once been grand. The front door was hanging off its hinges, as though someone had either left in a hurry, or been found in a hurry. _My guess is the latter,_ Isabela thought to herself. As one of the few buildings still relatively intact in the centre of the city, it seemed as good a place as any to squat.

"Wait here," Isabela ordered.

"But Admiral, there could be bandits!" Jackson protested. "We ought to go with you."

"Don't question me, Jack. I enjoy you its true, but don't overstep your mark."

Jackson fell quiet and bowed his head in respect. "Yes, Sir."

"Kiss ass," Sprug muttered in disgust behind him. Jackson spun around and elbowed the scoundrel right in the gob, knocking him out.

"Thank The Maker. He was giving me a headache," Isabela said, having heard the commotion behind her, amid her chuckling crew, and put two and two together. Her eyes never left the house though. She had no idea why she wanted to enter alone, but just felt it was right. The old chills of excitement she used to get while calling on Hawke back before they were an item seemed to flood back then. Isabela realised she was getting a little misty eyed and nostalgic. _And I can't let my bloody crew see me like this!_ Overcome by the rush of memories, both good and bad, Isabela ordered her crew to stay put. "Jack you're in charge."

"Yes, Admiral."

Steeling herself, Isabela retraced her footsteps of old, feeling as though she had stepped back into the past, and entered the once magnificent Hawke Estate, where her and Lana's relationship had first began to blossom.


	7. Old Wounds

_**A/N: Hello! It's taken a while but I'm slowly getting back into my writing again. Feels strange after months of nothing, and it took me ages to do this chapter. Grief is a very strange and frustrating thing. However, I've finally got there and I hope you all enjoy this latest installment of A Marauder's Redemption. Thanks to all who messaged me with support. This chapter is for you guys!**_

* * *

A small, recently lit fire crackled softly in a grate, the only source of comfort in a derelict building that all evidence suggested had once been grand. Flickering against the smothering darkness, it cast large ominous shadows of aged elegant furniture against the cold stone surroundings, illuminating the Amell Family Crest hanging above the fireplace; dusty, discoloured and crooked. The heavy rusted shield was littered with cracks, although miraculously still intact after the magnitude of battles Kirkwall had been privy to in recent years. On the skeleton of a massive four-poster bed in the middle of the room, a lone woman sat, tracing the rotting frame gently with her fingers, as though absorbing memories that the decaying wood seemingly possessed. She looked ragged, wild, and out of place, even amongst the mess, as though she didn't belong there. Despite this, the woman was staring around the chamber with a certain familiarity that suggested otherwise.

 _This was Hawke's...All of it..._

Despite constantly giving her grief for living in 'boring' Hightown, Admiral Isabela felt a little pang of regret as her amber eyes took in the ruins, the mess, the massive hole in the ceiling and the resulting damage of the Estate's collapse that had no doubt ensued from the Mage-Templar war. Rusted Templar armor lay discarded in the corner, clearly too far gone to have any value in the eyes of a thief. The gooey skeleton of an unfortunate soldier lay decomposing beside the doorway, his valuables long since stolen. The veil was thin here. Isabela couldn't remember ever feeling this uneasy in the Hawke Estate back in all its grandeur. A winter chill blowing downwards through the collapsed roof threatened to put out the fire she had lit, causing the flames to dance wildly in the grate and ash to spill out onto the already dusty floor. There was barely a thing left to pilfer as looters had set in long ago and claimed most of Lana's old belongings, but something of the woman's character still remained. She'd lived here for the better part of a decade after all. Isabela didn't much like the idea that strangers were now cherishing Hawke's home comforts as though they were their own.

 _That bugger outside with a younger Lana's portrait for example,_ Isabela thought to herself lividly, touching her bosom where the old painting of Lana rested for safe keeping after she had relieved the dead man of it. _Not going to lie, it kind of turns me on a little having her pressed between my cleavage again._

She smiled to herself then, and stared down at what was left of the four poster bed she was sitting on the edge of. There was no longer a mattress, and the long red curtains had been removed by some unknown intruder, giving the bed an empty, rather exposed appearance. Despite this, it was easy recalling the nights Isabela had spent here with Hawke, her arm wrapped around her in the night, the smell of Lana's dark brown hair as she buried her face in it and sighed contentedly, falling into the best sleeps she'd ever had in her life. Never before had Isabela felt that wanted, that appreciated. She'd grown so used to being on her own, but Lana always seemed to have time for her, even at her own expense. _I screwed her over on so many bloody occasions back then..._ _Maker, I miss her now,_ she thought then, getting misty-eyed all of a sudden. She immediately pulled herself together and got to her feet. _I'm being silly. Balls, what's the matter with me?_ Suddenly something caught her eye, bundled up in the corner. It was so covered with debris it was almost impossible to tell which colour it had originally been. A small hint of red was still left untouched however, and this is what caught the pirate's eye.

Isabela crossed the room, bent over and picked up the thin fabric. Trying not to choke on the caked-in dust, she shook it out, turning her face away and holding her breath as it settled on the floor. She watched as the stylish Antivan blood-red dress fell to its full length, and returned to something which resembled its normal colour. Isabela's mouth fell open. _Andraste's tits, of all the..._ Stunned, she shook off the last of the dirt and, glancing over her shoulder making sure she was really alone, held the dress up to her face, taking a small whiff of the fabric. Mixed with the smell of mould and dampness, Isabela was pleased to find she could still make out the faintest scent of perfume, which Lana had been wearing the first and only time she'd seen her wear it.

 _Leandra's dinner party._.. _The night Hawke told me she loved me for the very first time...And the night I broke her heart. Maker, I'm such an idiot sometimes._

The pirate's heart swelled with love and regret, and she found herself sinking back down onto the frame of the four-poster bed for support once more, still holding the dress in her hand. In that moment, it hit Isabela just how much she really missed Hawke. Her chocolate-brown eyes, her mischievous smile, the taste of her lips, the shape of her breasts threatening to burst out of her shirt... Isabela shivered, knowing it had nothing to do with the cold. She stared up through the hole in the ceiling at the moon, feeling more alone in that instance than she would ever care to admit. She knew she missed Lana (she didn't need the little quiver of excitement or wetness in her pants to remind her again), but she had thought that up until now it was mainly just physically she longed for her. _I can't remember going this long without sex before._ The truth was slowly seeping in at last though, along with her growing arousal, and Isabela knew then that she just couldn't stay away from Lana any longer. She had to go back. It seemed silly to feel this way and still remain at sea. Her plans could wait. She needed to see her, before Hawke got herself wrapped up in someone else's problems again.

 _She really is a sucker for trouble...Reminds me why I love her so much._

Remembering her crew were waiting outside for her then, Isabela stowed the red dress into her pack, hoping that no one had witnessed her little emotional breakdown. _Heads would roll! Balls, how embarrassing would that be?_ She had no idea why she was taking the dress, but the mere fact that it was still here was a miracle in its own right. The caked in dust had obviously disguised it as rubbish to intruders, when in actual fact it was worth quite a lot of coin in its day. Antivan fabric was precious. _I'll give Leandra one thing, she had good taste._ There was no need for Isabela to search the room any longer, as evidently everything else worthwhile (and a few worthless things too) had previously been stolen by looters. The pirate sighed and exited Hawke's crumbling old bedroom. She walked over and stood at the balcony overlooking the old living room below, remembering back to Leandra's dinner party, seeing Hawke being led around the dance floor by Emil, the man with whom her mother had tried to arrange a marriage for her.

Anger had surged through Isabela back then, as she watched Lana try to please her mother by becoming something she wasn't, putting her best foot forward (quite literally) in an attempt to fit in with the nobles of Kirkwall and settle down with a nice man. It bothered the pirate to see the misery on Hawke's face, the awkwardness she was experiencing dancing with this man who would never be enough for her. It was frustrating for Isabela, experiencing such burning jealousy and uncontrollable desire, watching Lana bend under her mother's thumb, and knowing that if she didn't make a move now the Lana she knew would be lost to her forever. That was what had spurred the pirate to descend the stairs uninvited and intervene. The ensuing argument with Lana afterwards then led to a passionate kiss in the library, only for them to be interrupted prematurely by Hawke's mother, and expose her daughter's lifelong secret of her sexuality to the entire world.

 _Not to mention the secret love she was harbouring for me..._

Isabela sighed, regretting how she had handled Hawke's revelation of love that night. Her present day self walked to the stairs then, glancing fleetingly in the direction of Leandra's bedroom, remembering rescuing Lana from a demon there once. She grasped the broken rail of the stairwell to descend like she had done the night of the party. As she did so, her hand grazed something indented in the wood. Her dick carvings on the handrail had withstood the sands of time. Isabela sniggered, making a mental note to tell Hawke when she saw her again. _She'll be so pleased!_ As she walked down to the lower level, the pirate's mind flashed back to the memory of Hawke running down the same stairs in the blood-red Antivan dress, after their brief interaction during the party, when Isabela had snuck in through the bedroom window and surprised her. Isabela felt a bit guilty, knowing she had harried Hawke the entire night. Though if she hadn't of, maybe Hawke would never have told her she loved her. Maybe they wouldn't have ended up together at all. Despite how she had handled things back then, Isabela herself set into motion the events which followed, and for this she was thankful for her younger, sex-crazed self and her unrelenting determination to seduce Lana Hawke.

* * *

"Find anything interesting, Admiral?" Jackson asked, as Isabela rejoined her crew and began to lead them towards the docks again. She took one last glance back at the Estate.

"Some things," she replied with a grin, turning her back on it and staring out into the distance as she walked, still lost in a nostalgic trance. "Mainly memories...Good and bad."

"I found this stashed behind that broken plant pot in the foyer while we were waiting for you, Sir," Jackson said, thrusting a bottle of whisker under her nose. "It's still half full."

Isabela took the bottle from him and inspected it. Another wave of nostalgia hit her then. Hawke used to drink this particular brand from The Hanged Man. She smiled, knowing that it had to be Lana's leftovers as The Hanged Man had burned down before the looters set in. It simply couldn't be anyone else's. Bodhan must have taken it from her, one of the many times she had drunk herself into a stupor, and hid it in a plant pot to keep her from it. The top of the bottle was chipped, but the contents were otherwise unspoiled. _Another little miracle find._ Isabela was surprised the bottle had lasted this long, and loved the idea that she could share one last drink from The Hanged Man with Varric and Hawke when she saw them again.

"How about I take this bottle and get you another, Jack?" the Admiral requested, stowing it in her pack.

"Suit yourself, "Jackson responded, shrugging uncaringly, "Probably tastes like rat piss by now. Make me feel like shit in the morning."

"It always did," Isabela mumbled to herself fondly, lost in her memories. "But it was the best feeling in the world."

* * *

Back on The Eider's Cry, Isabela ordered her crew to sail for Ferelden. Though some looked confused, they didn't dare question the Queen of the Eastern Seas. Feeling like she'd prefer to be alone, Isabela descended to her quarters and shut the door, leaving them to it. Normally she would have preferred to sail herself, but tonight she couldn't get thoughts of Hawke out of her head. Everywhere she looked, everywhere she went there were memories of her. _Even in here,_ Isabela thought, recalling the locations in her chambers where she had Hawke bent over a table. She quivered. The woman's figure was unbelievable. Oh how she longed to press herself up against it again! Tracing Lana's hips with her hands, feeling the softness of her skin, the heat of her body, the pointed nipples under the buds of her fingertips.

 _Oh screw it!_ Isabela thought to herself. She placed the chipped bottle of whiskey on a nearby counter, chucked her pack and weapons on the floor, and climbed under the covers of her giant double bed. The pillow on the right still smelled faintly of Lana, just like the dress had. Closing her eyes, Isabela slipped her hand under her shirt, and let it slide down along her abs...down...down...deep between her legs. Her body jerked a little in eager anticipation. Covering the wetness with her fingers, she began to cajole her pulsing arousal, gently, teasingly, releasing a sigh of contentment and longing. Her entire body was yearning for Hawke. Images of Lana, sweaty and naked, hovering above her in the darkness consumed her thoughts, and before she knew it, Isabela was getting herself off, over and over, relishing every spasm in her stomach, every thrust of her fingers...every uncontrollable, irrepressible breath that threatened to betray her loneliness to her crew. She moaned in earnest, wishing in all honesty, that The Eider's Cry would get her back to Lana sooner, and quicker than ever before.

* * *

Hawke walked into the tavern in Skyhold that evening, hoping that the theatrics of the night before hadn't given her more notoriety. Many people these days saw her as a disturber of the peace, and she didn't want to add fuel to the fires. _I've seen enough fires to last a lifetime._ The bard was playing in the corner by the staircase, taking her back to the good old days in The Hanged Man with Varric and Isabela. Six months! Six months since she'd seen her pirate lover. Maybe that's why she found herself constantly focusing on Leliana these days. Nothing was ever going to be between them again, but it was hard when the first woman she'd loved was here in the flesh, while the woman she loved now and wanted to spend her life with was out gallivanting with the raiders and running amok as she so loved to do.

 _Oh Bela..._

Hawke sat herself down at the counter, swallowed her loneliness, and requested a whiskey. The drink here wasn't bad as Varric had warned her before their session yesterday, but it still didn't feel like home as The Hanged Man once had. Seeing Donnic today on the north coast of Ferelden had brought back fond memories of Aveline, yelling at them all in the tavern for drinking too much, or scolding them for scaring the locals with their filthy stories. She often thought the trio of Hawke, Isabela and Varric was leading the others astray. Especially Merrill and Bethany. _Maybe she had a point,_ Lana chuckled to herself as she took a sip of whiskey, _We were always up to no good._

It had been good to see Donnic again, and introduce him to the Inquisitor. He brought with him some bad news though. According to his research, things weren't going well for the Wardens. Thankfully Aveline was doing fine, and Lana told him of little baby Hendyr's wellbeing, answering the first question that came out of his mouth. All was well on the family front, but the Grey Wardens were in turmoil...and all was not what it had originally seemed where the Hero of Ferelden was concerned.

Hawke shook her head, still unable to believe Donnic's words. For Navarre Mahariel couldn't still be alive! She just couldn't! Lana brought a hand to her head and massaged her temples. _I saw the tomb in Weisshaupt! I saw it with my own eyes! And Leliana..._ How in all of Thedas was she going to explain this to Leliana? Donnic had entrusted her, and only her, with the information, to pass it on to the Spymaster. But how do you tell someone close to you that the person they loved was not really dead all this time?

 _I can't!_ Hawke told herself over and over _I just can't! I need more proof first than Donnic's word for it. I believe him, but Leliana won't. If Navarre is alive after all this time... I'll find her myself._

"Stressful day, Warmonger?"

Hawke jumped, having forgotten she was supposed to meet someone, and turned to find Dorian grinning at her. His black moustache was as perfectly crafted as always, despite their latest adventure to the seaside.

"You could say that," she sighed, as the mage slid onto the stool beside her and helped himself to an empty mug and her bottle of whiskey.

"Hmm, yes...that Donnic fellow's words were troubling indeed," Dorian agreed, believing her to be preoccupied with the Grey Warden's strange behaviour. "And the fact that he's being hunted by other Wardens? Well, it just doesn't make any sense, does it? I was wondering why he was hiding in a cave on the beach...I got so much sand in my boots following the Inquisitor there."

Hawke chuckled. "Don't be such a lady, it's only sand," she teased, "Besides, you're boots are much too Tevinter for this weather. Might want to think about an upgrade."

"Ha! Is that so? Are you going to lend me the coin?" Dorian joked. "This Inquisition business is...well, rather unfulfilling coin-wise I have to say. Lucky Ellana's an absolute darling, otherwise I'd have left by now."

"Ooo, thinking of taking her to your bed?" Lana teased, "Taking advantage of her under those filthy Tevinter sheets of yours maybe? Tell me, do they only come in bright purple? I'd have taken you for a pink man myself."

The mage tittered with laughter, and a faint hint on pink crossed his cheeks then. He was blushing.

"So you know then," he observed, taking another sip of whiskey and avoiding her eyes. He suddenly looked uneasy.

"That you only enjoy the company of men?" Hawke asked, smiling to herself, following his gaze and scanning the numerous bottles over the bar, though not really reading them. "Oh, I know."

"How?"

"Intuition," Hawke joked, "Plus you might want to rethink the shiny clothes if it's supposed to be a secret." The mage chuckled. "So, is this why we're here?" she asked, filling herself another whiskey.

"Sort of," Dorian replied, "I'm...well, I find myself in a bit of a predicament, Champion... Of a rather sensitive nature unfortunately."

"Er, I don't know if you've heard," Hawke interrupted, before he went any further, "But I'm strictly into women only. If some ex lover of yours has shown up to cause trouble, then the best thing I can do for you is give him an arrow to the head and have done with it. I have no experience whatsoever of sweet-talking men...Unless you count the time Isabela and I disguised ourselves as whores and...No, no, never mind."

"My, my, is that what you thought of me?" Dorian laughed, "I'll have to hear that story some time. But in any case, Champion, let me assure you that I am not such a coward. I can handle my affairs better than most, I assure you." He chuckled again. "No, no...the task I have for you is...Well, more family-oriented.

"I don't understand," Hawke replied, confused. "What does this have to do with your sexuality?"

Dorian sighed, looking rather uncomfortable once more. "I prefer the company of men, you see," he said then, sounding rather angry, "And my father disapproves."

Instantly Hawke clammed up. She had a feeling she knew where this was going, and it held rather unpleasant memories for her. Whether Dorian knew this or not, he was going to ask her something which she was sure would open old wounds she had tried desperately to close.

"Dorian..." she began awkwardly, "I...What is it that you need of me? If you need me to tell your father your secret then-"

"Oh, Maker, no!" Dorian chuckled again, "He already knows, Champion. One of the many reasons I left Tevinter. I was tired of trying to live up to an impossible standard."

"Pff...I know _that_ feeling," Hawke sighed, remembering her own mother's face when she saw her eldest daughter locking tongues with a pirate woman during an all important dinner party, while her betrothed waiting patiently and obliviously in the other room. Lana's heart ached then. She hadn't thought of her late mother much since leaving Kirkwall years ago. The idea of them never having been able to reconcile before her untimely and shocking demise, still stuck uncomfortably in her throat.

"You do?" Dorian asked, genuinely surprised.

 _So he didn't know,_ Hawke realised, _He was actually just asking me, as I'm probably the only one who could help._ Seeing a familiar look in his eyes, reminding her of herself, Lana nodded.

"I'm afraid my...my mother never approved of my sexual preference either, Dorian," she admitted, "Mainly because I kept it a secret from her for so long...along with half of Thedas. But when she finally found out..."

Lana's voice trailed off and she stared into the depths of her mug, jaw clenched. She had no idea why she was telling this man anything. She didn't know him that well, and didn't even fully trust him as a Vint, but for some reason she could sense in him the same feelings of shame and disappointment and that undeniable fact: That they were both never good enough for their parents.

"I'm sorry, my lady," Dorian offered, realising he had upset her a little, "You have my deepest sympathies. If I'd have known I...Well, I suppose you're not really in a position to help me are you?"

He looked saddened then and imitated Hawke, staring deep into his own mug and swirling the whiskey around.

"Why tell me this now?" Hawke asked, glancing over at him.

"Oh, he's shown up, my father has!" Dorian admitted with a snort, "Under the guise of a 'retainer' and a secret meeting in Redcliffe. The Inquisitor informed me. She showed me the letter."

"Has your father shown up to take you home?" Lana wondered.

Dorian shrugged. "Who knows what that man is capable of? I just wanted someone to accompany me to the meeting in case he tried anything. Magisters are tricky beings to handle...I guess I could ask the Inquisitor. She offered originally but I refused...I don't much like putting all my eggs in the same basket."

"Likewise," Hawke agreed. "I don't know, Dorian...L-let me think on it."

"Ah, maybe I won't even go," Dorian sighed. "I'd much rather he died and I wouldn't have to face him again. It'd be so much simpler."

"Don't say that," Lana replied, looking grim. An image of Leandra's decaying face obstructed her thoughts then. "I'd kill for the chance to reconcile with my mother...Instead I...I watched the life fade from her eyes as she lay dying and decomposing in my arms...Murdered by a mage."

Dorian looked horrified, and much like he'd love desperately to get his foot out of his mouth. He didn't know quite what to say. Hawke got to her feet and downed the last of her drink, realising she didn't want to talk about this any longer. "I'll think about it," she said again. "Give me a day or two...I-I have to go. See you around, Dorian."

She patted him on the back comfortingly and walked away, ascending the staircase to her room. Once inside, Hawke leaned against the door, and slid down onto the floor in a heap. She could feel her eyes tearing up and closed them stubbornly, becoming lost in memories of her long lost mother, and the poisons of their once happy relationship.


	8. Old Scars

_***Knock! Knock! Knock"**_

"Lana...?"

Hawke's breath caught in her throat. She swallowed the rest of her audible sob with great difficulty, hoping she hadn't been overheard. Someone was at her bedroom door. Her head jerked upwards from where she sat hugging herself, and she immediately began drying her eyes, ashamed of having broken down so unexpectedly. How was it, that after all this time, thoughts of her mother and their troubles could still get to her like that? _She's gone. I have to let it go...But I thought I already had?_ She definitely recognised the look in Dorian's eyes downstairs, and it had hit a little too close to home it seemed. Maybe she was reliving her own pain through his? If that was the case then she ought to help him with his father. She knew how it felt to have never been good enough in the eyes of a parent.

Heaving herself up, confused at how mysteriously and unexpectedly grief could consume a person, she flattened her hair frantically and straightened her shirt. An old injury in her side began to throb painfully, but she ignored it. Grabbing her dagger from the rack nearby, Lana then opened the heavy wooden door of her modest room above the rowdy tavern, and poked her head through.

The music from down below immediately spilled inside.

"Leliana? What's wrong?" she asked over the noise, evasive, though genuinely surprised to see the Bard standing before her. Immediately she began to panic, and her joy at seeing the woman turned instantly to dread.

 _Oh crap! Do I tell her about Mahariel? Do I wait? Balls! What do I do? What do I do?_

"I... was just about to ask you that myself," said Leliana, her face lined with concern as she scanned Hawke's damp cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. She pulled down her purple hood, revealing short cadmium-orange hair that barely reached her shoulders. A flowery scent of Andraste's Grace tickled Lana's nostrils as she did so. It stirred up familiar desires which Lana fought down with great effort. "I passed Dorian on my way in," Leliana continued, "He seemed to think he'd upset-Have you been crying!?"

She seemed unable to hold back the question any longer, such was her shock.

Hawke immediately ducked. "What? N-no! Of course not! I'm fine! I'm good! I'm allll good," she stammered rapidly and unconvincingly, in a high pitched voice that sounded nothing like her own. After an awkward silence and a dubious look from Leliana, she let the door swing open invitingly, as though she had nothing to hide. _Pull yourself together Lana! She's going to know you're hiding something._ She walked over to her bedside cabinet in the semi-darkness, and retrieved a bottle of whiskey from inside with a shaking hand, grabbing two dusty glasses. "Drink?"

Lana lit a bedside candle, un-corked the bottle, and began to pour them anyway, without waiting for Leliana's reply. The cool brown liquid splashed against the glass, filling the room with silence. After feeling Leliana's eyes on her for a moment, Hawke then heard her shut the door, drowning out the music from downstairs and plunging the room into stillness once more. When she turned around, Sister Leliana was leaning casually on the dusty piano by the window.

"You really need a new hobby," Leliana teased, accepting the glass Lana was holding her with a little grin. "Still drinking the swill, I see? Remind me to educate you in Orlesian fine wines and champagnes someday. You are so uncultured, Serah Hawke."

She fingered the keys of the piano. It was horribly out of tune. Hawke laughed.

"Uncultured, but worldly...or so Isabela tells me. So what's got you out of your nest and in the tavern with such boorish company? Apparently no one ever sees you these days. It's like being in the Cloister all over again, ey Lel? Though the last I remembered you hated the solitude."

"All part of my mystique," Leliana joked, "My job requires a lot of secrecy. Solitude comes hand in hand with that." She began strolling around the room absentmindedly, checking out a few little ornaments Lana had brought from Rivain. "These are nice."

"Thank you. Take one if you like. I have something of a collection."

"Can I have the Raven? It's pretty." Her face lit up.

"Of course!"

Leliana smiled in thanks and pocketed it. She sighed then, giving in to Hawke's reproachful gaze. "Oh alright, maybe I have been hiding myself away. But if you must know, the Inquisitor and I had an argument. She just asked me if Justinia and I were 'more than friends'? Can you believe her?"

"What, Ella?" Hawke asked in surprise, laughing. "I thought she was too shy for a question that bold!"

"Ella?" Leliana scoffed, "You've known her what, all of five minutes, and you've already given her a nickname?"

Lana laughed. "Hang around Varric long enough you'll learn everyone has a nickname...But Ellana's obviously not what's really bothering you, Leliana. She's just a girl, and you're a bit of an enigma for her. Of course she was curious. What's really going on? You've been hot and cold with me ever since I've arrived in Skyhold. Any more back and forth and I might get permanent whiplash."

"You just...you shouldn't be here," Leliana sighed, looking her normal, stressed-out self. "This is not your fight. I know Varric's regretting sending you that letter to request you come. You've done enough for Thedas. Let someone else take up the mantle for a change. Go find Isabela and sail the Eastern Seas together! Be with the woman you love and stop taking her for granted."

"Leliana, we've been over and over this," Lana replied, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I just don't want something to happen to you!" Leliana groaned. "You've been through enough...I already thought I'd lost you once, then Marjolaine, Navarre...Justinia...I can't lose any more people that I care about. You're one of the few that are left, Lana."

"You haven't lost me," Hawke said softly, rubbing her arm in an attempt to comfort her. Leliana brushed her off and walked to the window ledge, leaning over it and staring out at the distance through the vast blackness of the night. "And now I'm beginning to lose my spies too," she continued, as though she hadn't heard a word Lana had said. Hawke walked over beside her and placed a warm arm around her waist. Leliana was so distracted and isolated. It wasn't a look she wore well.

"Stop worrying so much," Lana told her with a smile, "Things will get better, I promise. And no matter what you say I intend to play my part in making that happen. Ellana's just a girl, Lel! She reminds me of Bethany, and she's much too young for the fate of Thedas to rest on her shoulders, Herald of Andraste or no. I almost crumbled under the weight of Kirkwall's fate alone! I have to help her! I can do this!"

As if on cue, a sharp pain struck Lana's left side again. She released Leliana as though she'd received a shock, and hobbled over, down onto her bed gingerly, letting out an involuntary grunt of pain.

 _Oh, not now!_

"Maker's breath, are you alright?" Leliana asked, instantly racing over to her as Hawke grabbed the left side of her ribcage, her breathing becoming surprisingly stuttered.

"Fine," Lana gasped, embarrassed and infuriated that her body had given in while she was verbally defending it. "Old injury that's all. Isabela used to massage the tension in it for me on occasion. Not much chance of that now though...It's been gotten worse these past six months without her."

"Well...I could do it if you like?" Leliana insisted innocently, placing her glass down on the cabinet and sitting down beside her like a Healer and her patient. "Where is it? Ribcage?"

"Oh, no, no, don't worry," Hawke groaned, trying to keep her composure. In actual fact she wanted to yell so loudly it would wake half of Skyhold. The idea of Leliana's hands on her body again was frightening, yet exhilarating at the same time. She had to ignore that part that craved for it though. She didn't want things to get weird between them again.

"Lana, please," Leliana said rationally, placing a hand on her knee. Hawke froze, trying to ignore her growing arousal. "Let me help you," Leliana continued, oblivious to the mental torture she was causing. "You've had a long, hard day."

Lana glanced up at the ceiling pleadingly, wondering why The Maker and his bloody bride were punishing her in this sweet yet seductive way. It was so unfair! As though they wanted her to cheat on Isabela with this woman, a woman who she desired, yet didn't desire at the same time. _By the Void, I'm in trouble!_ There was still a part of her (however much she tried to deny it) that wanted to strip Leliana naked and have her way with her in every which way. While the other side (the one dominated by Isabela) was telling her that if she did she'd be the biggest asshole in all of Thedas, or that she should at least invite Isabela too. _I think she'd actually be more pissed that I'd slept with Leliana without her than the fact that I'd cheated on her...Isabela has strange morals._ But the flames of a first love were hard to extinguish, and soon Hawke found herself reluctantly giving in to Leliana's offer of help.

"Hold your arms up as much as you can," the Spymaster said, as she pulled Lana's shirt up high over her head, revealing the problem. Lana shivered against the coldness of the night, in nothing but her smalls now. A massive, deep dark scar running the length of her left side looked angry and irritated. Of all the scars on her body, this one was the most prevalent and deepest. She had already broken out into a cool sweat, and her skin became instantly clammy and warm as her body tried to fight the infectious throbbing.

"Holy Maker! Leliana gasped, eyes wide, mouth agape.

Hawke forced a laugh through her pain. "I do tend to have that effect on people."

Leliana rolled her eyes. "You're such a shameless flirt," she giggled, "But I meant the wound! How in the-?"

"Oh, didn't anyone ever show you the size of an Arishok's horn?"

"Lana!"

"What?" Hawke teased, protesting her innocence, confused.

"Oh! Sorry, I thought that was an innuendo," Leliana sniggered. "Wait-You're serious? The Arishok's horn did this? I thought a sword..." Hawke nodded. "Blood of Andraste! It sure puts your battle with the Qunari in perspective." Leliana sounded impressed. "I'm surprised no one has written a song about it yet."

"You could be the first," Lana teased. "But technically, Varric wrote a book about it. Watch out for plagiarism."

Leliana sighed. "That's a nice idea but...I-I haven't really sung much since Navarre...since she..."

"I was lucky to survive this battle," Lana said tactically, trying to distract Leliana from memories of her seemingly lost love. She didn't want the topic to land there. She hadn't yet figured out how she was going to tell her Navarre was still alive. "Most exhausting one-on-one battle of my life, and in front of all the nobles no less!"

"I'm sure! Most would have chosen to run! You're are absolutely insane, Lana Hawke," Leliana teased.

"Well...I did it for Isabela," Hawke admitted, smiling fondly. "There was never any choice to be made. It was her or me, and rather it me. There was no way I was going to let those horn-headed bastards take her...even if she is a bloody thieving bastard."

They both laughed.

"She's lucky to have you," Leliana replied kindly, "Here, lie down and I'll massage your side. If you can't have Isabela then you can at least have me." She took Lana's drink from her and placed it on the table. "Scar tissue is always very tender. I think you need new armor, Hawke. What you're wearing is light, but still way too heavy for skin such as this to bear. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about."

Hawke hesitated, as the Bard touched her bare shoulders, meaning to ease her backwards onto the bed. Her chocolate-brown eyes stared up at Leliana reluctantly, as the woman's hands met resistance. Leliana seemed to know what she was thinking.

"It doesn't mean anything," she assured her, unable to hide that obvious regret she felt as she said it. "I promise...But I can't just leave you here in pain, Lana. I hate watching you suffer. So humour me, please. Besides, I've seen you more naked than this."

"Hmm, that's what worries me," Hawke grunted, throwing her a cheeky grin.

She gave another fleeting glance up at The Maker to curse him, and finally gave in to Leliana's demands. _Don't get turned on...Don't get turned on..._ Carefully, Lana lay back on her bed and closed her eyes, willing her feelings to stay in check as the Bard's slender, smooth fingers began to stroke the damaged muscles around the enormous scar that the Arishok's horn had torn in her side. She flinched a little at Leliana's cold palms, but soon became accustomed to them, and her body began to respond of its own accord.

"Um...Lana...?" Leliana whispered uncertainly, pausing after a few minutes.

"Mmm?"

"Can you..." Leliana cleared her throat, "That's my...Your hand is..."

Hawke opened her eyes and realised she had gradually been sliding it up the inside of the Bard's thigh without even realising it. She immediately retracted it, horrified by her subconscious action.

"Oh... _Oh! Shit_... Sorry, Lel!" she mumbled, cringing. She turned over so that she was facing away from Leliana then and kept her hands locked firmly under her body to keep them from going astray.

 _Andraste's tits! What was I thinking?_

To her relief, Leliana giggled awkwardly. "Don't worry about it," she reassured her, continuing to massage her side again then. "Old habits die hard it seems."

"Yeah," Lana laughed embarrassedly, "They do."

Her face hidden from the Bard, Lana rolled her eyes and silently berated herself for her actions, as Leliana continued to massage her injury. It felt so good, but Hawke had to admit, Isabela was better at it.

 _Maybe it was all the time she'd spent around brothels. She's bound to have picked up a few tips that Leliana doesn't know...Or maybe Isabela's hands are just more familiar these days...Maker, I miss her._

"So," Leliana began, trying to breeze over the inescapable sexual tension, "Are you going to tell me why you were crying tonight? Don't think I bought your feeble attempts to distract me at the door."

Hawke opened her eyes and sighed. She swallowed over the lump in her throat as grief settled its uncomfortable weight there. Leliana already knew the story though. There was no point in boring her with it again.

"I...I'd rather not talk about it," she replied, trying to sound more apologetic than evasive. "It's old scars...Not worth reopening again. Mother issues, unloved child, sex with women, blah, blah, blah..."

"I'm sorry," Leliana sympathised, though chuckling a little at Lana's mockery of her own life. "But you don't have to feel ashamed. Those we loved never truly leave us. I still carry Navarre with me... in my heart."

Hawke exhaled in defeat then. Hearing the sadness in Leliana's voice, she couldn't keep the information from her any longer about the Hero of Ferelden. It was cruel and torturous, and if the tables had been reversed she would be furious at being kept in the dark. Besides, Leliana would never do that to her. She was always forthcoming with her information, helping her in any way she could. Hawke owed her the same courtesy. It still wasn't going to be easy, but she had to try.

"Lel..." Hawke turned over and took her hand, stopping her from massaging. She reached up and touched the woman's soft cheek, caressing it gently, and staring deep into her eyes which were bouncing with tears in the candlelight. Why did they have to look so impossibly sapphire in that moment? Hawke's resolve was beginning to crumble again.

"Is there something wrong?" Leliana asked, concerned. Her eyes were wide with genuine worry.

 _Always concerned for me as usual,_ Hawke thought to herself, _She's such a selfless person. She really doesn't deserve this!_

Hawke wrestled with words in her head, to form them into sentences as she struggled to deliver the hardest news she'd ever had to in her life. She loved Leliana. They'd been through so much together. How was she going to tell her this without hurting her? Why did Donnic have to choose her of all people to break the news? Before she could stop herself, and wanting to give Leliana once last bit of joy before she dropped a volley on her, Lana leaned up without thinking what she was doing, and kissed her deeply.

Taken aback, Leliana's mouth was slow to respond, but it soon matched the urgency of Hawke's. The two woman clutched each other hungrily, unable to fight their feelings any longer. It was animalistic and impatient. Lana blindly tore the Bard's shirt away, hearing the buttons fall to the ground, and pressed her backwards onto the foot of the bed. It was easy, too easy, for them to fall back into the people they had been back in Lothering. But there were other people at stake, others who would get hurt if this went any further. _And the Hero of Ferelden ._ Leliana moaned with growing arousal, oblivious to the conflict raging in Hawke's head. Lana's eagerness threatened to give her away. She pushed the Bard's undergarments to the side and slid a finger deep inside of her...It was this that brought Lana hurling back to reality with a thump.

She immediately broke from the kiss. Realising what she was jeopardising, she stopped herself before really committing. Sister Leliana was pinned beneath her, half-naked and panting, longing for her to continue...but she couldn't. It was wrong. And now she'd just gone and made her insurmountable task even harder. _Stupid! How was having sex with Leliana going to make things better? You're a good fuck, Lana, but you're not a bloody miracle worker!_

Ashamed of herself, Lana retracted her hand and unpinned Leliana from the bed. She clambered onto the floor, eager to escape, and raced to the open window, leaning her arms on the sill, breathing heavily. Suddenly she swung her fist at the collection of statues on her cabinet in frustration. They scattered to the ground and smashed into pieces.

 _I don't know what came over me! Why did I do that? Why in all of Thedas did I think it would help?_

"Lana...?" Leliana called, following her. "I don't understand..."

"I thought it would...," Lana replied bitterly, "I thought I...I could...I don't know...Ugh, why does this have to be so difficult?"

Leliana placed a hand on her lower back. "Is this about Isabela?" she whispered, seeing the guilt in Lana's eyes and mistaking it for the near infidelity she had almost committed. But Hawke shook her head.

"No..."

"Then what?" Leliana pressed, stroking her spine comfortingly. "You can tell me anything, Lana.. You know that."

Hawke straightened up and pulled herself together then. She turned to Leliana and directed her over to the bed, sitting her down and crouching down in front of her. It didn't help the situation that she was still half naked, but Lana needed to get this out now, before she lost her nerve. Trying to ignore the perfection that was Leliana's breasts, Hawke clutched at her fingers and gazed up into her face. Her compassion for Leliana would be her undoing.

"Lel," she began again, staring up into Leliana's swimming irises, knowing she was about to upset her. _And so close after The Divine's death. Leliana isn't exactly herself these days. She's having a rough time as it is._ "I have something to tell you...Something I found out only today from Warden Donnic, and I'm afraid it isn't going to be easy to hear."

Leliana's eyebrows narrowed. "Ok," she replied, prompting Lana to continue. "And...this involves me, does it?"

Hawke took a breath. "It involves Navarre..."

"Navarre?" Leliana repeated, confused. " Lana, what are you talking about? You're acting very...odd."

Lana clenched her jaw. Her heart was slamming against her chest. _I can do this! No, I can't! Yes I can!_ She squeezed Leliana's hands in hers, willing herself to say it.

"The Hero of Ferelden... is...She's..." she took a breath, then finally the truth escaped her, harsh and blunt.

"Navarre Mahariel is still alive, Lel."


	9. Denial and Deceit

**_A/N: I made a Dragon Age Forum in case any one's interested. It's called Dragon Age Story Promos. The link is on my profile. Head on over and promote your stories/ get new story ideas/ debate the games. I understand reviews are sometimes hard to come by on this site so this is a forum for shameless self promotion. Get your name out there. If anyone wants to become a moderator let me know :)_**

* * *

There was a second's pause as Lana's words rang hollow in the night. Her heart was going a dinger. At first she though Leliana was going to cry. Her blue eyes were filling with droplets. She looked more and more fierce though. Then, all of a sudden Leliana bounded to her feet and began pacing about the bedroom, frantically trying to find her clothes.

"I have to get out of here," she gasped, clutching her chest as though in agony.

"Lel, stop! Please! Let me explain!" Hawke begged, stumbling forward and trying to prevent her from leaving.

"Get off me," Leliana breathed in an almost inaudible whisper, shrugging free from Lana's hold on her arm. "I should never have come here. I just thought...Dorian said you were upset...It was a mistake..."

Leliana refused to look at her. She threw what was left of her shirt over nakedness, holding it shut due to its loss of buttons, and grabbed her remaining things from the bed. Lana jumped in front of the door, in a last ditch attempt to block her speedy exit. She had to slow her down and explain.

"Leliana, please," she repeated, her chocolate-brown eyes peering into the Bards blue ones desperately. "Stop. I know this is hard. You must hear me out."

"Hear you out?" Leliana yelled, "Are you drunk?"

"Wah—no!" Hawke protested, taken aback. She considered it then. "I mean...I had a few but not enough to...No! No! I'm not drunk!"

"If this is a prank then it's not a very good one."

"A prank?" Hawke parroted, "Do you really think I would joke about something like this?"

"If Navarre were alive I would have found out by now!" Leliana shouted. "I'm one of the best spies in the business!"

"Well were you even looking for her?" Lana asked, confused. "You thought she was dead, Leliana! Why would you be sending scouts to find her? And what a bitch for hiding from you all this time if I might add."

Leliana lashed out and slapped her heard across the face. Lana stumbled backwards with the force, shocked. Eyes wide, she stared at the woman in surprise, broken by her actions. Never before had she seen Leliana this way. Never before had Leliana even threatened to raise a hand to her. They had always had something of a soft and sensual relationship, unlike the relationship Lana shared with Isabela which had always had its ups and downs and back and forths. Lana realised then that she'd made a big mistake. Leliana was so out of character right now. It was a look that didn't suit her, but in that moment Hawke could really see the Bard's dark side. It was scary.

"Don't talk about her like that," Leliana growled, looking utterly terrifying. It seemed that her grief and hard work had finally caught up with her. She was buckling under the strain. "You have no right. You didn't know her!"

"Leliana, calm down, please. I'm trying to tell you something. You have to believe me."

"I don't have to listen to a damn thing you say, Lana!"

"I got the information from Donnic. I'm telling you the truth! Navarre is alive" Lana implored.

"How dare you," Leliana snarled angrily, "How _dare_ you! I don't know what your game is, but don't you _dare_ bring up Navarre like that to stop yourself from sleeping with me. I never thought you were such a coward. You and Isabela are meant for each other. You're both utterly heartless."

Her voice was full of so much contempt. Lana faltered under her gaze, ashamed and deeply injured by her words.

"You think I'm doing this to...to hold you _off?_ You think I'm using Navarre as an excuse not to..."Lana was stunned by this more than the slap. "I'm sorry, Leliana," she whispered softly, trying with all her might to make her understand. "But Donnic told me to tell you this. He's been in contact with Navarre himself! She's alive."

"She is _dead!_ " Leliana yelled defiantly.

"She _isn't!"_ Hawke protested, "And the sooner you open your eyes you'll see that! And I'm not just saying it to...to keep us away from each other. I kissed you because I still care about you! Because I will _always_ care about you. Because I knew I was about to _hurt_ you with this! You must believe me, Leliana!"

"I don't know what to believe anymore," Leliana snarled.

"You _know_ me, I would never lie to you like this," Lana said, holding up her hands in an last ditch attempt to calm her. "Do you really think I'm that _cruel_?"

"Whatever you are, Lana...I'm afraid you're not the same person I met in Lothering," Leliana said disgustedly, with a deafening finality to her tone. "Now get out of my way."

"No."

"Get _out_ of my way, Hawke!"

Leliana held her dagger up threateningly. It was The Hawke's Key, the same dagger with Lana had given her years ago. There was a distressed glower in her eyes, as though she was seeing Hawke clearly for the first time.

"Let me go," Leliana whispered, the dagger shaking in her hand. "...Please..."

Reluctantly, Lana stepped to the side then, seeing that Leliana was beyond consoling. _I better not push her while she's on the edge. I like my throat the way it is._ Without another word, Leliana passed her and grabbed the handle of the heavy wooden door. She dragged it open forcefully, sending it hammering against the stone wall, and disappeared into the tavern, with Lana watching her go regretfully. This was not the way she imagined this night to unfold. She saw the shadow of Leliana take the balcony route back to her birds nest at the top of Skyhold, too ashamed of her torn clothes and dishevelled appearance to leave the normal way in front of Skyhold's people downstairs.

"Damn it!"

Hawke slammed her bedroom door shut and grabbed fistfuls of her hair. She punched the wooden wardrobe beside her in a fit of rage, cracking the door and bursting open her knuckles. Exhaling, she sat herself down the bed and examined her bleeding hand, watching the blood ooze down along her fingers and relishing in it.

 _She thought I was lying,_ Hawke couldn't help but repeat inwardly over and over, _She actually thought I was lying. How could she believe for a second that I would do that to her?_

Hawke remembered their brief frolic then. She knew she shouldn't have kissed her, but in that moment she couldn't help herself. Isabela was going to be furious with her, for she was going to have to tell her. They didn't keep secrets from each other anymore. Would she understand though? Isabela had been overly jealous before of the ex-relationship between her and Leliana. Was this one time too many? Hawke didn't know why she was constantly being dragged back to the Bard. Every time she thought she'd escaped her, Leliana would reappear, and all the old feelings of attraction would come rushing back.

Guilt-ridden and confused, Lana stared down at the gold ring with a black stone that Isabela had given to her. She felt as though she had let the pirate down. Furious with herself for how she had handled things tonight, Hawke flung herself backwards onto her unmade bed and curled into a ball enabling her to fall into a restless sleep.

* * *

 **Two Weeks Later**

"Aren't you tired of moping around all day?" Bethany asked her elder sister. "I thought you'd be happy to see me."

"I am, Beth! Honestly, I am," Lana replied moodily, sipping on her fifth pint of the day in Skyhold's tavern. "I'm sorry. This is all too much to take. I'm so surprised to have you here! This last hour talking to you has been like a dream!"

"We never really get time to ourselves anymore, do we?" Bethany rued. "That's part of the reason why I came."

"Well, good thing the Inquisitor's working on something at the minute. She told me I can't leave here until she's finished. I'm so bored! I haven't killed anything in days."

"I'm pretty sure she didn't say you can't leave the tavern," Bethany giggled sceptically.

"Not the tavern. Skyhold!" Hawke laughed, "I just chose the tavern to keep me occupied. This place is rather dull when Varric's not here though. But still, there's more chance of a fight or two."

"Yes, is...that a Qunari in the corner?" Bethany asked with a shudder.

They both looked over their shoulder, spotting the Iron Bull in the corner with his Chargers. He was drinking a stein and laughing loudly. They weren't the only ones keeping an eye on him. The other patrons looked fearful. Clearly some of them had heard the stories in Kirkwall.

"Don't ask," Hawke replied, returning to her pint. "Varric has vouched for him...but then again, Varric vouched for Anders too and look where that got us."

Bethany shifted uncomfortably in her stool, as memories of herself being used by Anders back in Kirkwall came to mind.

"Sister Leliana still ignoring you?" she asked, eager to change the subject. Hawke sighed, and began massaging the spot on her cheek that still bore Leliana's nail marks.

"The little songbird hasn't come out of her nest since our... _talk_ ," she told Bethany, "She still doesn't believe me."

"Well, you can't blame her. How would you feel if someone came back years later and told you Mother was still alive...Or Gamlen?"

Lana laughed. "Maker, perish the thought! If Gamlen was still alive all this time I'd be broke by now... And Mother? Well..."

Hawke's voice trailed off and a lump reformed in her throat, the same one that had lodged itself there after her talk with Dorian.

"Sorry," Bethany said quickly, patting her on the shoulder. "I shouldn't have brought her up...Anyway, I think you should go and speak to Leliana. You were too good of friends to let something like this come between you."

"Ah, it's too complicated, Sister," Lana argued, a painful expression on her face. "There's too much history there."

"Exactly," Bethany said softly, placing a hand over Lana's, her big brown eyes meeting her sister's, which were full of regret. "Too much history to let it all go to waste over something like this."

Hawke squeezed Bethany's hand in reassurance and exhaled. "Maybe you're right," she relented. "But she thinks I'm a liar and a cheat...She called me heartless. I was only trying to help...Why is it I always balls up when I try to help people?"

"She was in shock," Bethany said kindly, "But maybe next time don't try to seduce her? That was stupid. Isabela's going to murder you when she sees you."

"Gee, thanks," Hawke groaned. "As if I didn't have enough on my plate."

"But if this information is true," Bethany continued, "If Navarre Mahariel is still alive after all these years...then Leliana will need you, Lana. This is too big a deal to let her go through it alone."

After several seconds of taking in Bethany's wise words, Lana smiled. "When did you grow up so fast?" she asked, seeing the faint lines on her sister's face and realising then that she had matured so much in such a short space of time.

"Oh shush," Bethany giggled embarrassedly, releasing her sister's hand as a faint blush crept under her cheeks.

"I'm serious!" Hawke teased, "Maker, I think can even see some greys, Beth!"

"What! Where?"

Bethany rummaged in her pack frantically and produced a handheld mirror, then began scouring her head for grey hairs. There were none. Her sister doubled over with laughter.

"That wasn't _funny!_ " she said, digging Lana on the arm, and then giggling a little herself. "If only _you'd_ grow up instead, my life would be so much easier," she joked.

"Hey, miracles _can_ happen," Lana jested. "But don't hold your breath."

Bethany rolled her eyes. "I won't. Anyway, back to serious topics, what about Donnic? Isn't he waiting for you on the North coast?"

"Not anymore. I sent him a letter to tell him to make his way into Orlais, stay hidden and wait for me before confronting the Wardens. They're up to some dodgy shit. It's not safe for him anymore."

"Do you think Aveline's involved?" Bethany asked worriedly.

"Doubtful," Hawke replied, "She's in Weisshaupt isn't she?"

"Still, this Corypheus problem sounds like its affecting all Wardens. I mean, after what you told me about the Hero of Ferelden...I just think we should all be worried, that's all. If it drove the most famous Grey Warden underground for safety, then the others can't be faring much better."

"Aveline would never succumb to Corypheus and his minions. She'd have them all slapped in chains by their ankles first." They both laughed. "Besides," Lana continued, "If she had been in any danger do you think Donnic would have left her alone?"

"True," Bethany agreed reluctantly, "But honestly, sister, we should be rushing here. Time is of the essence. That's why I came north from Lothering to lend a hand."

Lana chuckled. "Don't need to tell me that. Look how quickly shit hit the fan in Kirkwall. If you ask me, the Inquisitor's taking too much time galloping around on horses in The Hinterlands. Doesn't she know there are other places on the map?"

Bethany giggled. "Don't let Cassandra hear you say that. Or Cullen. He's a bit obsessed with her I think. He speaks of her with such reverence."

For some reason, she sounded rather sad about this. Lana, who was a little too inebriated, failed to notice.

"Cassandra's as bad. She was so angry with Varric for keeping my location a secret. I haven't come face to face with Cullen since I arrived though," Hawke said happily. "Never is much too soon. Thankfully he's still a big dull dud and stays away from local watering holes."

"Don't call him that!" Bethany moaned, "He's actually rather... _nice_."

Hawke gave her sister an 'are you crazy' look. "Er...Beth. Need I remind you he put you in the Circle of Magi in Kirkwall? He tore our family apart. Not to mention all the other crap with Meredith. He's forever on my shit list."

Bethany shifted in her seat uncomfortably. "I know, but..."

Lana frowned. She straightened up a little in her chair then, suspicious but intrigued. "But what...?"

Bethany's features returned to normal then. "N-nothing," she replied evasively. "Another drink?"

She quickly called for the nearest wench and purchased another pint for her sister, who was still looking rather confused, as though trying to link things together in her head that didn't make any sense.

"Bethany...?"

"Gotta go!" Bethany said quickly, jumping to her feet. "I promised Charade I'd write as soon as I arrived here. See you later, sister. Try not to get _too_ drunk before you talk to Leliana!"

"Bethany? Bethany!" Lana called, watching her sister jog towards the exit. She got to her feet and watched her sister's long black hair disappear into the sunlight and the door swung shut behind her. Sighing, Hawke re-seated herself on her stool, her face still lined in puzzlement.

 _What in The Maker's saggy left nutsack was that all about?_

Shrugging, Lana pulled herself together and returned to her drinking. Suddenly she realised her sister was right. She shouldn't leave things like this between her and Leliana, especially if she would be leaving soon with the Inquisitor, into more danger. If the Bard didn't want to talk to her then she'd just remind her that she was still here for her. That would be enough for now. Making up her mind, Lana downed the pint Bethany had purchased for her and left the tavern before she got "too drunk" as Bethany had put it. She took a breath to steady herself, relishing the fresh air, and glanced up at the spires of Skyhold's keep with anticipation, to where Leliana was no doubt hiding herself away from the world.


	10. A Phantom and a Proffer

**A/N: I added in an extra bit of dialogue between Lana and Leliana to clear up the confusion over Navarre being alive. Leliana didn't already know. She only found out when Lana told her. Hopefully it's a little clearer now.**

* * *

Lana climbed the stairs to Skyhold's keep with a good idea to give Leliana a bloody piece of her mind when she reached the top. Honestly, she was so sick to the back teeth of trying to help people, only to have it thrown in her face. _I can't count the number of times it happened me in Kirkwall._ True, she had ballsed things up by kissing Leliana and seducing her only to back out before following through, but that was a narrow oversight on her part (in her opinion anyway). Leliana knew deep down she was telling her the truth about Navarre. She was just too sunken in both denial and shock to admit it! The fact that Leliana had actually slapped her and called her a liar was grating on Hawke's nerves. _And she thinks I'm heartless, then attacks Isabela with the same insult?_ If Leliana thought Lana had transformed from the person she had been in Lothering, then maybe she hadn't known her that well at all.

 _She thinks_ _ **I'm**_ _the one who has changed!?_

Lana couldn't help but scoff at the very notion. This Leliana; the Spymaster, the Inquisition Advisor, the Seeker, the Divine's Left Hand, was the main change that had occurred over time. What happened to her? Wasn't she a Bard anymore? She doesn't sing like she used to, does she? Her lute sits the corner, gathering dust. She doesn't enjoy telling stories anymore. What in The Maker's name happened to the pleasant, albeit religious, maiden that had drawn Lana in with a mischievous smile and charming wit? _That_ Leliana had been soft and gentle, with a marred past, yes, but a desire to do some good in a world she had helped turn rotten. _That_ Leliana had seduced Lana into going against her morals and associating with a Sister of the Cloth, then becoming involved with her despite the danger for both of them.

 _Yet it's me who has changed?_ Lana thought, poking fun at the jibe again and shaking her head in disbelief. _I still drink like I used to, don't I? I still joke like I used to. I still try to seduce women that I bloody shouldn't. I still try to protect those around me with every bone in my body. I still..._

" _..._ haven't broken my trust to you after all these years! I still stand by your side, ready to protect you. I still value your council! I still fight by your side! I'm still you're friend even though you always wanted more than that! And I'm so, _so_ , damned angry that you struck me, accused me of lying, and have been ignoring me to for two whole weeks when all I've done, when all I've _ever_ done, is love you!"

Before Hawke knew it, time had fast-forwarded and she had been standing there for ten minutes in the Spymaster's nest, shouting everything at Leliana that she had been telling herself on the way up the stairs. Her frustrations had boiled over and she hadn't let the woman get a word in until now. Leliana was frozen, stunned at the amount of accusations and injustices Lana had thrown at her since storming into her lair like a raging bull. Now, it seemed Lana had at last run out of steam. Breathing heavily and looking ready to hit something, she paced the stone floor back and forth, and then sat herself down at Leliana's desk, absolutely exhausted both from the climb and the heated nature of her outburst.

Leliana cleared her throat, still trying to process all that had been slung her way. It had been brutal, but it needed to be said. In the whole time Lana had yelled at her, she hadn't spoken. She just stood there and took it.

Without responding, with only Lana's fuming breaths breaking the silence, the Spymaster walked wordlessly to the desk drawer near Hawke and began rummaging in it, her expression blank and unreadable. She pulled out a tiny weathered, leather scroll holder, and tipped it on its head. A piece of rolled-up vellum fell out into her hand. With no explanation, Leliana held out the letter to Lana, who took it. She tossed the holder onto the desk and, without another glance Lana's way, walked to the door at the end of her hideout and exited onto the balcony.

Confused, Hawke stared after her, and then turned her attention to the letter. She unravelled it to see thin, slanted handwriting, and, curious as she was, began to read:

 _Dear Leliana,_

 _Tell your men to burn their letters next time if you prefer your involvement to remain a secret._

 _I don't know how you found me, but I should have expected it eventually. You never were one to leave behind loose ends. I'm surprised it took you so long, if I'm honest. But I suppose if you already gave up on me in Amaranthine when I was still alive, then why would you ever bother to look for me when you believed me to be dead?_

 _I'll admit I regret that you were tricked into thinking the taint had taken me all these past winters. That was not my intention, believe me. The Wardens told me they would let you know it was all a smokescreen for my protection once I went into hiding. I guess they're even less dependable than you are. If there's a reason you're hunting me now after all these years, it must be because you've heard about the Grey Wardens' problems with Corypheus. If it is help you want, then I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed. I can't help you or your Inquisition, and quite frankly I'm surprised at the gall you have even to ask me._

 _I don't know if you remember. Maybe it slipped your mind while you were kissing the Divine's behind, but you broke my heart when you left to go to her side. You abandoned me not long after the Blight and I never saw you again. And when you were gone, I...things were...Oh, what does it matter? I doubt you care now anyway. I made a mess in Amaranthine. I never should have taken the position of Warden-Commander I hate Shems...But I never dreamed... By the Goddess, why did you ever think it was a good idea to put me in charge of them? I never should have trusted you. I should have followed my instincts during the Blight and kept you at arm's length. You tricked me into thinking Shems could actually be dependable, that you weren't all the same, and then went right around and stabbed me in the back._

 _Don't try to find me again. I don't want to kill any more of your spies, but I won't hesitate to do so if you send them after me. It's over, Leliana. I've been hurt enough by you Shemlen. Just stop sending your people. They're drawing Corypheus' attention._

 _Mythal, you're going to get me killed._

 _Navarre_

It was a while before Hawke's senses stopped ringing when she had finished the letter. She got chills, goose bumps all over her body as though she had been touched by a ghost. Here it was. Actual proof that Navarre Mahariel was still alive. But it didn't make sense. The letter was terribly confusing. Why would the Grey Wardens lie to her? Why was she so accusing? Why did she think Leliana had abandoned her? And why...why did she sound like she wanted nothing more than to murder every human who crossed her path?

 _And she told Leliana it was over?_

Lana still wasn't able to figure this out. The more she tried, the more puzzled she became. Still scanning the letter, she got to her feet and followed Leliana onto the balcony.

The sun was setting in the distance, casting a beautiful golden glow over Skyhold, reflecting off the topmost point of the highest snowy mountain peak. As the day drew to a close, the Inquisition's Spymaster stood leaning on the stone balcony with her arms, staring out at the magnificent evening as though lost in thought. She didn't look round as Hawke quietly took up a place beside her, and joined her in meditation, elbow to elbow, both women bathing in the dying rays of the day, tempers gone, emotions finally in check.

"It's so peaceful up here," Leliana said softly, remaining faced forward, scanning the magnificent skyline.

Lana silently agreed. They stood together for a minute or so, side by side, as though the last few weeks hadn't happened. It was as though neither wanted to start for fear of causing more hurt.

"I owe you an apology," Leliana said sincerely, breaking the peaceful lull once more. "You were right...She is alive."

"This is what you've been doing for two weeks after I told you? Trying to find her?"

Leliana nodded. "I sent my agents out that very night. I...I never should have struck you, Lana. I never should have called you a liar. I was in denial...I can still see my nail marks on your face. I deeply regret it. I'm so sorry..."

Lana didn't know how to respond. Yes, she was owed an apology, but it hardly felt like the time after what she had just read. Her curiosity got the better of her.

"I'd prefer an explanation instead," she said, turning her body to face Leliana finally then. "I already know you're sorry, Leliana. You don't have it in you to be hateful. But Navarre doesn't sound too relieved that you found her. I don't understand."

Leliana shifted uncomfortably then. She sighed. "I didn't know she needed...She always seemed so strong. I didn't think she would mind if I left. When the Divine asked me to be her Left Hand, I-I jumped at the chance. How could I refuse her? I owed Justinia my life..."

"..but you had promised it to Navarre," Hawke finished for her, beginning to comprehend.

Leliana nodded. "It wasn't long after that news reached me of Navarre's apparent death...I was devastated, Lana. I cried for weeks. I felt so, so guilty! If I'd have known it was the last time I'd ever see her I...maybe I wouldn't have left."

"I know," Hawke replied kindly, touching her hand that was resting on the low stone wall of the balcony. She remembered being in Weisshaupt Fortress with Leliana, finding herself at Navarre's tomb. Grief had taken hold of Leliana then. Was it any wonder she had changed so much now?

"I didn't know she'd see me leaving as stabbing her in the back," Leliana lamented, her blue eyes filling with tears. "But I guess she was right. I did. All these years I've mourned her, wanting to get a chance to make amends. And all these years she's been angry with me...If I'd have known...but now it's too late to fix it."

"It's not too late!" Hawke encouraged. "She was misled, Leliana. Of course she's angry! She expected once the Wardens told you she was in hiding that you'd come looking for her. But you never did. Because they never told you the truth! They betrayed her! You read what she wrote! She regretted the fact that you thought she was dead. I'm sure she'll at least hear you out if you try and find her again."

"You don't know Navarre," Leliana said with a shake of her head, "She's more stubborn than a Halla, and bitterness tends to consume her. She's had a hard life, Lana. She was thrown into the Blight mercilessly by the Wardens. I told you before how she gave up everything, her way of life, her clan, what remained of her family. Navarre's mistrust of humans was born from both her Dalish nature and the human's treatment of her and her people. Her time in the human world was nothing but torment and cruelty. She didn't understand it, and didn't want to either!"

"But you convinced her to see _you_ differently," Hawke said, gathering what she could again from Navarre's words in her letter.

"I tried," Leliana replied, "I could identify with her pain. Like I said back at Weisshaupt, I was one of the very few people she spoke to during the Blight. I was the first human she let get under her skin, and she gradually began to treat me with the same respect I showed her."

"What about Alistair?" Hawke wondered.

Leliana actually smiled at the name. "Oh, they never got along," she said, unable to help from letting out a little chuckle. "I told you they only really became friends after the Blight...But during? Navarre hated him, and he wasn't too fond of her either."

"You said they didn't really understand each other, but why didn't Alistair help her later once they became closer? Once you left?"

"Well, he was King by that stage, and I expect Alistair was still grieving over Duncan...and a little scared of failing the world still," Leliana said. Lana snorted, but Leliana, who was used to this reaction when she told people, jumped to Alistair's defence. "I know you, like many, have heard the tales, Lana...But they don't fully capture the magnitude of what faced us during the Blight. It was terrifying at times. We took it a day at a time, not knowing when or if that day would be our last. Navarre knew it was going to consume her. She prepared to give her life for the cause."

"But she won," Lana said, "How?"

Leliana said nothing."It's not my place to explain," she replied evasively. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you anyway...But let's just say I played my part in making sure Navarre stayed alive after killing the Arch Demon, and that she knew nothing about it when she flung herself across its path, intending to die."

"And this made her trust you?"

"No...she was already starting to trust me before that. I guess this just made her realise her feelings for me were more than just friendship. She finally let go of her memories of her clan mate, Tamlen and made room for me in her heart."

"This still doesn't explain why she's so angry at you now," Hawke complained. She was interested to hear the stories. Leliana didn't talk about the Blight much. It was obviously still affecting her. But it still didn't explain why Navarre could have written such a nastily worded letter to a woman she was supposed to have loved.

"I let her down, Lana," Leliana finally admitted, ashamedly. "I encouraged her to take the role of Warden-Commander in Amaranthine when the Arch Demon was dead and promised I would help her rule the Arling. She had no experience in politics, and even less experience with humans. She was often cruel to them, replicating the actions they had inflicted on her and her kind."

"But you did help," Lana reminded her.

"For a while," Leliana nodded, "But when I heard the Divine needed me I put her needs before Navarre's...and things in Amaranthine fell to pieces after I left."

"What happened?" Hawke asked, shocked. This piece of news never reached her in Kirkwall.

Leliana wore a painful expression. "The Darkspawn weren't completely gone after the Blight. Navarre was head of the clean up job. But something happened down in The Deep Roads that she wouldn't tell me about. It seemed to terrify her. But she was stubborn and told me it was none of my concern, that she was the Warden there and it was her fight...So I left. I heard months later that the Darkspawn attacked the Keep and the City of Amaranthine, too organised to be mere rabbles and stragglers left over from the Blight. Navarre chose to protect her holdings...and almost the entire Arling was massacred as a result."

"Maker! What did she see?" Hawke asked, stunned, "Did you ever find out?"

Leliana shuddered. "Let's just say Corypheus wasn't the first talking Darkspawn to grace these lands... and leave it at that."

Lana blanched in shock. "Oh..."

She took a second to let that piece of information settle in.

"Yes," Leliana breathed sadly, "I don't blame her for being angry with me. I left her to her fate and I broke her heart...I guess I deserved to get mine broken in return."

A single tear streamed down her cheek as her eyes finally overflowed. She was still persistently trying to hold herself together though. Her breaths were rattled and shaky, her shoulders' squared.

"Do you think Navarre was hoping you would leave Amaranthine, so as to protect you?" Hawke asked gently. "Maybe that's why she didn't tell you."

"Maybe," Leliana nodded, "But I was too dumb to see it at the time. Maker, how could I have been so stupid as to leave her?"

"You have a second chance now to make it right though," Lana reminded her, "Don't throw it away, Leliana. You've been miserable ever since you learned of Navarre's fate. It's a miracle that this has happened...I mean, come on, Lel, you're religious! You believe in all that miracle and parable shit! This is like a dream come true for you."

Leliana laughed through her tears then, unprepared for the joke.

"What was that bullshit story you told me about the gnarled route flowering in Lothering's cloister, affirming your belief in The Maker?" Lena teased. "Remember what a little fan girl you were?"

"Oh shut up," Leliana giggled, pushing her away. Hawke sniggered. Her eyes met Leliana's sad ones then, seeing that familiar spark that she always seemed to have when she looked at her. Lana smiled that same smile that Leliana was so used to, the one that used to brighten her day back in Lothering, and the woman sighed, remembering.

"I really wish I could think of you as someone other than an ex lover," Leliana told her, sincerity in her eyes. "It's so confusing at times."

"We'll get there in the end," Hawke promised, "For what it's worth, I'm sorry for trying to sleep with you when you came to my room that night. I guess my whoring days are taking a while to leave me."

"Will Isabela be mad?"

Hawke shrugged. "I don't know, probably," she said, jumping up onto the wall then and taking a seat. "She's not a monogamous person, but if she doesn't get leeway when we're apart then neither should I. She knows how I've felt about you all these years. But she's as unpredictable as the first day I met her. She'll probably just be angry that I didn't wait for her. You seem to have given her a taste of something she likes back in The Pearl up in Denerim."

Leliana giggled, and wiped the wetness from her cheeks, taking a seat beside Lana on the stone. "That makes two of you," she teased, "but maybe...maybe if she...I mean, if you both..."

Hawke was taken aback. "Are you... suggesting what I think you are?" she asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

Leliana laughed quietly, looking a little embarrassed then. "I...am ashamed to admit this but, I haven't slept with anyone in a very long time," she revealed. "Some years in fact."

"Maker, is it any wonder you're so uptight these days then?" Lana teased, nudging her playfully.

Leliana's pale features began to blush pink. She laughed. "If Isabela was agreeable to it then...I don't know. I just think it might be an easy way for you and I to get the other out of our system...To finally move on. Let's face it, Lana. We're never going to be together are we? You love Isabela, and I love Navarre. If it hadn't been for the Blight then maybe we would have had something, but we've been back and forth, going over this a million times over...Let's just call this what it is and have done with it."

Lana considered this, and found it wasn't a bad idea. _Isabela is always moaning about how we never sleep with anyone else anymore...But will she want to with Leliana, knowing it would mean more to the both of us than her?_

"Like a 'One more for the road' sort of thing?" Lana joked. They both laughed. "Yes, I suppose that makes sense. I guess I could run the idea by Isabela...But what about Navarre? Are you going to try and find her?"

Leliana looked grim again then. "I'll think about it. I have a lot to consider, and she might even kill me on sight. Maker knows, I deserve it too...Maybe sending my agents after her wasn't a good idea. For now though, I'd be perfectly happy with closing a chapter on _our_ relationship, Lana, before reopening a long lost one with Navarre."


	11. Old Ghosts

Lana woke with a jolt and a stifled gasp, surprised to find she was lying flat on her back in the middle of a mysterious, unknown forest. Her entire body was riddled with agony. Wide-eyed, she stared up at the intertwined branches of hundred year old trees, her pupils adjusting to the dying sunlight peeking through them, casting golden rays upon the unkempt dusty-brown forest floor. Breathing in the damp, wetness in the air, she exhaled. She'd been having the most torturous nightmare. Realising then just how uncomfortable she was, she felt for the irksome source: a knotted root sticking into her lower back, jagging her spine. Her head was throbbing, begging and pleading with her to massage it. She accepted the dormant request, closing her eyes with a grimace, and sat up simultaneously, wondering where in all of Thedas she was.

 _What...happened?_

It felt as though she had dropped clean out of thin air into a life that wasn't hers. Or maybe it had once been hers, in a past existence of sorts. Something about the forest was becoming growingly familiar. Intrigued, Lana pushed herself to her feet and felt around her body for the usual weapons she carried. She found she was wearing nothing but a white button-up shirt and tight breeches made of green moss-coloured hide, her favourite kind. There were no weapons in sight. This forest must have been extremely old, and the more she stayed here the less Hawke found she liked it. An ominous feeling was hanging over her, and dread set in as soon as she found herself completely unarmed. Not even her hidden dagger for 'special' occasions was at hand.

 _Something isn't right here._

It felt as though she was trespassing on holy ground. Not that she believed in anything of the sort, but it was the closest explanation that came to mind. The forest began to stink of sickening oppression then, reminding her of Chantry buildings in both Lothering and Kirkwall. Somehow they all reeked of the same stench: a stale, musty odour that assaulted the nostrils and made it hard to breathe freely. Maybe it was the incense they used, or maybe it was just the general stink when old women wore heavy robes on hot days and worked tirelessly and pointlessly in the name of Andraste.

Bringing her mind back to her present predicament, Hawke began to scan the environment, trying to decide which way would lead her back to Skyhold. Every time she tried to remember how she got here though, she came to a mental block, as if no memories existed. This didn't completely scare her as it would most. She couldn't recall the number of times she had blacked out after having too much to drink. What scared her most was the fact that she couldn't remember drinking anything this time however. Her tongue wasn't swollen and dry like usual, her throat clear and unclogged from pipe smoke. Her clothes were not the unkempt, ale-soiled mess they would normally be in that circumstance. Her dark brown hair was brushed to perfection, no knots or whiskey-soaked ringlets as result of a wild Isabela swinging on her arm and accidently slopped drinks down her front.

No...None of this made sense, and the more she stayed here, the more frightened Lana became. It was a sensation she wasn't accustomed to. Fear was a fickle friend, one that she didn't entertain much. Just as she thought about taking a step, something moved in the distance.

"Who's there?" she demanded, her bravado coming to her rescue instinctively. There was no problem that you couldn't talk your way out of. At least, that was what Varric told her. Of course she didn't possess the same gift of the gab as he did, but she wasn't entirely hopeless in that department. If that failed, then she'd take a leaf out of Isabela's book, flash her tits and ass and hope for the best.

 _Let's hope it doesn't come to that. I haven't so much dignity left that I'd like to give it all up in one night._

The approaching figure continued to dart in and out of the thin barks, still nothing more than a silhouette to Lana's increasingly wary chocolate-brown eyes. She stood ready, prepared for anything. As this creature neared, every muscle in Lana's body told her to run however. Every tendon screamed that she shouldn't be here. It wasn't right. It wasn't natural. She had to flee! Why wouldn't her feet obey her? They remained rooted to the ground no matter how hard she fought to escape.

Suddenly the leaves overhead began to drop, not by the laws of nature, but as though they weighed more than a giant Darkspawn ogre. Lana looked up to see them, not weightless and light, drifting in the air, but dropping with the speed and accuracy of arrows. They lodged themselves in the ground, sharp and pointed. She began to back away then, her eyes fixated above, dodging the falling razorblades as they began to cut her skin. She glanced down at her right forearm, seeing a thin slice begin to ooze with red. Then she felt something solid behind her.

Lana spun around. She didn't hear the spine-chilling yell that escaped her. The force of her shock knocked her back onto forest floor in fright, scrambling to get away from the encroaching creature that was drawing near.

"The day has come to an end," the creature spoke. Something about it was familiar, just like the forest had initially felt. It had no shape or form as of yet, but Lana was sure she had met it before.

"W-who are you?" Hawke asked, reaching behind where she sat for anything that resembled a weapon. Neither Varric's nor Isabela's tactics could help her here she feared. She was on her own, against an unknown enemy.

"You know who I am," the spectre answered."

"And I."

"Arghhh!"

Lana heard her scream this time, though she was as unprepared for it as the first. She recoiled as a second figure appeared beside her. Mutilated and disfigured, this one she recognised. The stitched, mismatched remains of her mother bore down upon her from her left. Her eyes looked just like they had when she died. Like giant silvery orbs, with nothing left behind them. Lana wasn't ever likely to forget them in a hurry.

"Why did you come here, Lana?" her ferocious mother demanded, dogging her as she scrambled backwards again, trying to put some distance between her and her tormentors. As soon as her back hit the cold trunk of a tree, Hawke stopped her frantic attempts at escape and stared up into the grossly distorted faces of her mother and, what was then revealed to be, her brother. She was helpless now as they surrounded her, their presence so overpowering it hurt.

"I...I don't even know where here is," Lana gasped, breathing heavily. She was covered head to foot in a cold sweat now, her hair stuck flat to her head. She desperately wished the tree she was trapped against would open up and swallow her. Anywhere was better than here.

"You can't let us go," Carver accused, "But you must...It isn't fair, Sister. You can't keep us here forever!"

"Keep you where?" Hawke breathed, cringing as she stared at her little brother's bloodied and rotted face. His body was oddly disfigured, as though the broken bones the ogre had caused him were still giving him great pain even in death.

"You want forgiveness!" Leandra snarled disgustedly. "You're keeping us here in the hope that we will forgive you for what you've done to this family."

"Is that why I'm here?" Lana shouted back, defiant against their ever-growing crippling effect on her. "To answer to you once more? There's nothing to say now!"

"No...Feelings are already dead," Leandra spat. "As dead as we are. You have no business here, child. You're no daughter of mine."

"Then let me go!" Lana screamed, "Let me go! Let me go! LET ME GO!"

Her yells echoed in the desolate forest, her pleas for help going unanswered.

"We can't. You are our captor, not the other way around. Leave it behind, Sister," Carver said sadly, "Otherwise you'll be stuck here forever...like us. You'll become tainted, like us."

"I don't believe there's a way now," Lana sobbed, "All that's to say has been said...I didn't kill you...Either of you."

"Not I," the zombie-Leandra tormented, "But you killed him."

"I didn't!" Lana squirmed painfully, following her mother finger towards Carver. "I didn't...I can't...No..."

"You're leaving with blood on your hands," her mother replied, grinning evilly now. Suddenly her killer appeared over her shoulder. They were closing in around where she sat.

"You!" Hawke growled, rage coming to her side now. She was suddenly on her feet, with nothing more that white hot anger to project her.

"Me!" the man replied gleefully, holding out his arms in delight. "Killing me the first time only allowed me to rejoin dear Leandra here. We are one at last."

Quentin smiled sickly, touching Leandra's bloody cheek with a delicate finger.

"But you other wife!" Hawke protested, "The first one! What about her? Why my mother?"

"Oh I wouldn't meet my sweet love here," Quentin laughed maniacally, "She is too good for this place. This is a tainted plane. I made dear sweet Leandra into my dead wife using blood magic and necromancy. Did you really think she would be welcomed to the Maker's side?"

He laughed insanely, throwing back his head, revelling in the pain he was causing her.

"And Carver?" Lana asked, confused.

"My body was taken by the Darkspawn after you left it on the mountain path," Carver replied solemnly. "We are all here because we are tainted, Sister. We cannot go on to The Maker's side."

"No," Lana said in denial, shaking her head in disbelief, "No...Aveline's first husband...Wesley prayed for you," she told him. "He asked The Maker to take you."

"Alas, he was already tainted when he did so, according to Leandra," Quentin smiled. "He's around here somewhere too. I can fetch him if you like. He didn't make it either. Souls become lost in the Fade you see, and there is no place for tainted souls at The Maker's side."

"No," Hawke repeated again, resuming her disbelief.

"They are mine now, Lana Hawke." He put his arm around both her mother and brother and began to lead them away. "They are mine. And there's nothing you can do to stop me this time."

"No!" Hawke cried, "No, you can't!" She tried to get to her feet to give chase but her legs would no longer work. "No! Quentin! STOPPP! YOU BASTARD!"

"Sister!" Carver called frantically, glancing back at her over his should. "Sister, don't let him take me. Not again!"

"I won't!" Lana screamed, trying and failing to give chase once more. "I won't! No! CARVER! CARVER!"

The three figures disappeared into the trees again and Lana collapsed flat on her face onto the dirty forest floor.

"Mother," she sobbed into the dirt, clutching lumps of it in her hands in frustration. She couldn't believe her body would defeat her like this when she needed it most.

"Don't ever give up, Lana," a man's voice said.

She looked up an inch from where she lay and her eyes found a pair of familiar boots beside her, boots she hadn't seen in well over a decade.

"Father...?"

"I'll save them," Malcolm said softly. "This place can't hurt me anymore. I'll save them from him I promise. I promise..."

"You're tainted too?" Lana asked sadly. Her father nodded.

"I dabbled in Blood Magic, love, as you found out," he admitted.

"I should never have undone your magic, Father. I released Corypheus again," Lana sobbed. "And now you're here for nothing."

"I'm here because I made a choice," Malcolm corrected, "It's not your fault. I will never blame you like your mother has. I always understood you better. But you don't belong here, my love. I'll guide the others to The Maker's side, but you must guide Bethany. She's falling down a dark path I fear. She needs to return to the light."

"What do you mean?" Lana asked, confused. "What do you mean, Father?"

"Wake up, Lana."

"You..."

"Wake up!"

"No..."

"Lana!"

"Noooooooo!" 

##

Lana jolted awake in the real world and instinctively grabbed her dagger. Bethany jumped back at the last second, dodging the wild upwards swing, and grasped her chest, stunned by her elder sister's sudden consciousness.

"Maker's breath, Lana! You almost took my head off!"

Lana collapsed onto the chair again, breathing hoarsely as though struggling with something so simple. Her dagger fell to the floor and she slumped in her seat.

"Sorry," she exhaled, "Sorry...I must have...dozed off."

At this Bethany looked a little embarrassed. "Um, yes, you were...shouting in your sleep. That's why I came in to check on you. The Iron Bull said he heard you from the bottom floor of the tavern. He seemed to find it funny. Asked if you were drunk again."

Hawke didn't answer, but gazed into nothingness, as though the fires were lit but no one was home. Warily, Bethany reached over and took a weather-beaten letter from the clenched fist of her other hand. Evidently she must have been reading it before nodding off. The paper had become crumpled under the weight of her head.

"This can't be," Bethany breathed in shock, as her eyes pored over the messy handwriting that belonged to Warden Donnic. "Who is this Livius Erimond? Is he Tevinter? Why is he making the Warden's bind themselves to demons!? This is outrageous! I hope the Inquisitor returns to Skyhold soon. Donnic is waiting for us to help him fight by the sounds of it." Lana still didn't reply. Bethany's anger softened a little then, and she sat down on the edge of the desk, which was covered in all of her sister's correspondence. She touched her cheek. "Lana? Are you ok?"

It was several seconds before Lana finally found her voice. "Bethany," she began, as though lining up a question in her head. "How much did you learn about the Fade from father?"

"Lots," Bethany answered truthfully, though her expression betrayed her confusion at the question. "However I learnt much more at the Circle in Kirkwall. Father only taught me the non-religious aspects. I became more affiliated with the Chantry's version while I lived under Templar rule."

Hawke's eyes began to fill with fear then. She was almost afraid to ask her next question. "Do you think...Do you think there's a place in the Fade where tainted creatures dwell?"

At this, Bethany faltered. She placed Donnic's letter back onto the desk and shifted herself closer to her sister. "Why do you ask?" she muttered suspiciously. "Has this got something to do with your nightmare?"

Lana's chocolate-brown eyes slowly made their way towards Bethany's. She didn't feel like herself. Something was... _off_.

"What would you say if I told you our family never made its way to The Maker's side?" her hoarse, dry voice asked. "What if they weren't _worthy?_ What if they became lost?"

Bethany slid off the desk then and fell to her knees, taking Lana's hands in her own. The way she was staring made Lana feel as though she were a patient and her little sister the over-concerned nurse. "What do you mean?" Bethany said softly. "Why would you be asking me something like this? You don't even believe in The Maker, Sister. You never did before now."

"Let's say for argument's sake that I've suddenly been... _enlightened_ ," Hawke answered carefully, her tired eyes locked with Bethany's increasingly fearful ones.

"What did you see?" she asked in a scared whisper. Lana reluctantly told her about the dream. She conveniently left out the part about their father though. Her sister stroked the back of her hands comfortingly then, as if trying to guide her back to reality. "You were dreaming, Lana. It was just a dream. A nightmare like usual."

"Then why do you seem so scared?" Hawke challenged.

At this, Bethany faltered. Her eyes began to fill with tears. "I...I'm not an expert on the Fade, Sister. But I can tell you honestly, that I have never heard of, nor explored, a part of the Fade that housed tainted creatures that are deceased. I see no reason to believe Carver, or our mother would have ended up there."

"But the Chantry says The Maker cast out the first Mages who entered his golden halls," Lana reminded her, "They were the first Darkspawn so to speak. This Corypheus claims to actually be one of them! Is it really so hard to believe that this...prison...for the unworthy exists? Not every soul is whole enough or good enough to make it to this so-called Maker's side! It's impossible for him to forgive and forget everyone's crimes. Maybe he only really takes the best of us, and hordes the others away to suffer for their sins!"

"Sshh," Bethany soothed, squeezing her hands and trying to calm her down, "Sssshh...Lana, you're scaring me now. I think you're still half asleep. Let's get you to bed."

"Sorry," Lana breathed, "I...Maybe it was Donnic's letter I...Maybe it just made me have a nightmare. It felt so real though."

"Yes," Bethany agreed readily, desperate for the excuse to discontinue this conversation. "Come, Sister. I'll help you into bed to make sure you're ok."

Wordlessly, Lana allowed Bethany to raise her from the desk chair and walk her over to her tavern bed. She felt her little sister's warm hands as they slid around the covers, tucking her in. Then Bethany did something they hadn't done since they shared a bed in Gamlen's hovel all those years ago. She lay down behind her and put her arms across Lana, holding her tight like they did when they were little. Blindly, Hawke reached for her hand and felt a smile spread across her face despite her fears. It was strange having Bethany this close again. There was something terribly comforting about it, as though they we just younglings once more, lost children dependant on each other in a world that was once again, crumbling to pieces around them. 

##

"So let me get this straight...for lack of a better word," Varric said amusedly, chuckling at his little play on words. "Sister Nightingale wants to... _you know_...with you AND Isabela?"

Hawke had to laugh at the dwarf's incredulous tone. She clicked her tongue to show he had it right. "Got it in one, my friend!"

The dwarf let out a low whistle, eyes wide. "Maker," he breathed, shaking his head, "You don't do things by halves do you, Hawke?"

"I didn't initiate it. She did! Weren't you listening?" Hawke protested with a wicked grin. Varric wheezed with laughter.

"Sure, sure!" he laughed, sliding another shot of whiskey across the table in the Keep towards her. He had just returned from his travels with the Inquisitor that morning, and Lana had proceeded to fill him in on current events that had taken place a week days ago with Leliana. She had decided to leave out her dream from the night before though. Bethany was still too scared to talk about it, and Lana knew dwarves didn't dream. It would be foolish to worry Varric as well. He had enough on his mind these days. "And you're completely innocent as usual, and nugs can fly!" Varric finished.

They were sitting at his usual spot in the grand hall, right in front of the fire, enjoying an aged bottle of whiskey that Varric had received from Elanna as a gift for helping her Inquisition in The Hinterlands. The Inquisitor sure knew how to show appreciation, and it was easy to forget there was a war going on as the two friends settled in front of the crackling flames. It felt nice having a bit of warmth for a change. The snow in Skyhold was falling rather heavily today.

Lana mimicked his smile. "Ok, you got me," she relented, "Maybe I wasn't entirely innocent in the whole thing. _Maybe_ something happened to jog Leliana's memory of how good I was in bed. But it was definitely her who suggested a threesome, I swear it!"

"And how are you going to suggest it to Isabela?" Varric asked, raising his eyebrows. "I know she likes a tumble, but this offer might be perilous enough to crack open another rift in the Veil. She likes a fight too, don't forget."

"Let's get to that hurdle when we reach it," Lana replied simply.

"She's going to murder you," the dwarf added with a snigger.

"You'd think that no one's ever said that to me before," Hawke smiled, "I know how to handle Isabela by now, believe me...I'd kill for anything from her right now if I'm honest. I really miss her." She felt sad then. "I don't know, maybe that's why this whole thing with Leliana has resurfaced again. I thought I was over her already. I'm sure Isabela's faring no better than I am at being separated. She always needed a good steady supply of sex."

"Which is why you're thinking this thing with Sister Nightingale is going to be a nice welcome home gift for her," Varric warned.

Hawke was inclined to agree with him. "I haven't said yes yet," she told him, "I don't know if it's such a good idea myself to be honest, but it's hard to pass up. I can't deny I still have feelings for Leliana. I love Isabela with all my heart of course but...Oh, I don't know anymore, Varric. This is torture! Slow, seductive torture!"

"I don't envy you," Varric sighed, sipping his drink. "Bianca's the only woman that'll have my heart. You can't have them both, Hawke, especially not now after the return of the dead Warden. The last thing you want is the Hero of Ferelden on your ass. I've heard the stories about her battle with the Archdemon. It makes your tale sound like a children's book."

"Oh come on Varric," Lana giggled, "You know better than anyone that stories are embellished a little."

"True," he chuckled, "But the one of the Blight didn't need to be. It was scary enough with the truth. That's why I trust it."

"Maker, maybe you're right," Lana admitted ruefully, "But a threesome Varric! With two of the most beautiful women in all of Thedas! My former love and my true one! Ugh, it's so unfair that I have to choose. I know I'm just thinking this way as I haven't seen Isabela in over six months. I miss her so _so_ much. It actually physically hurts. I'm practically drinking to keep the pain away."

The dwarf sniggered at the undeniable longing in her voice. "You've gone down this path before," he reminded her. "And we discovered Rivaini had a jealous side. Who'd have thought?" He chuckled again. "I don't think Isabela's going to be as up for this as you imagine."

"Up for what?"

Varric and Hawke both jumped and spun around in their chairs, open mouthed. There stood Isabela, dressed head to toe in her long blue Admiral coat, covered in snow and donned with a massive red hat and her backpack.

"Rivaini!" Varric exclaimed in delight, yelling all over the Keep. "Ancestors and The Maker combined! When did you get here!?"

Without a word, Hawke flung herself up off her chair and into the pirate's arms, almost knocking her over with the force of her hug. She was stunned. Actually that didn't even describe it! _Could this be real? Could she really be here?_ Isabela laughed and pulled her close, placing kiss after kiss on her neck and melting into her bear hug. Hawke could feel the snow resting on the woman's clothes soak into her own, but in that moment she didn't care. Isabela was tanner than usual, having travelled in the warmer hemispheres. But she still felt the same. She still smelled the same. Lana gushed with affection. _She's finally home..._ Such was the overflowing emotion of it all, that they both began to feel a little nauseous. However their desire to be close outweighed the fact that they had attracted the audience of everyone else in the Keep.

"Maker I've missed you! Oh Blood of Andraste!" Lana breathed in Isabela's ear, feeling her heart swell to the point of bursting. She was starting to well up a little. She almost didn't care that everyone in the Keep was staring at them now. Mother Giselle was smiling in the doorway as she walked past and witnessed the scene. Lana knew Ellana was watching from the other side of the room as well, but a few of the other guests were whispering to each other uncomfortably. Isabela was a notorious raider after all. She elicited fear in people, even while showing an overflow of affection such as this.

"Same here, Sweetness," Isabela gushed, closing her eyes and relishing the first real contact she'd had with anyone for the better part of half a year. "More than I can explain. Maker, you smell good."

She pulled Lana's face towards her then and pressed their lips together, tasting the sweetness of her tongue and feeling like the ground had slid sideways beneath her.

 _Oh how I have longed for this day._

It was hard to stop once she'd started, and a few wolf whistles around them told them they were getting way to physical for the public eye. Varric cleared his throat to re-announce his presence, and Isabela reluctantly came up for air, though maintained body contact with Hawke. It was too soon to let her go just yet. Lana still couldn't even believe she was here. It was all too much to bear.

"Break it up, break it up," Varric joked, manoeuvring his way through the furniture to get to her. "Let me get a look at you, Rivaini."

Isabela grinned down at her old friend, resting one hand on her hip, and the other around Hawke's. "You once told me you saw too much of me, Varric."

The dwarf laughed. "Glad to see you finally bought a coat," he teased, "Skyhold is a bit of a religious cesspool, Rivaini. You'll be leading the faithful astray with your nakedness."

"Wouldn't be the first time," the pirate laughed. "Now, put that bloody cheap swill you're drinking away. I've got a glorious surprise for you both, all the way from Kirkwall's finest distillery. The Hanged Man sends its loving regards, one last time."


	12. Some Things Never Change

The meagre lot of Skyhold's tavern suddenly seemed more welcoming to Hawke somehow. Maybe the last few weeks of waiting here twiddling her thumbs had helped her settle in. Maybe it was the warmness she felt inside after having enjoyed a long-lost bottle of The Hanged Man's finest whiskey in the Keep with her friend and dearest love. Or maybe it was the current sight of Isabela undressing in her rented room, back from the rigors of travel. It had been months they'd spent apart, torturous and lonely, but Hawke couldn't remember her having ever looked so beautiful. She closed the door behind her and smiled as she gazed upon the woman's naked flesh. Isabela spun round, and found Hawke already inches away from her, impatient and seductive. She gave a faint chuckle and allowed Lana to press her backwards onto the tavern bed, relishing the first contact she'd had in a long time.

"I love you," Hawke muttered between kisses.

"Shut up and get on with it," Isabela begged breathlessly.

Lana had to laugh. _She has a point. There'll be time for more talking later._ Grinning, she obliged, pressing her weight down upon Isabela fully, bringing her hands up over the pirate's full, pointed nipples. With a groan of longing, Isabela kicked off the bed and rolled over until she was on top. Evidently she was too impatient for Hawke's teasing pace. She bit down on Lana's lip so hard in her eagerness that Lana sampled the metallic taste of blood in her mouth. She traced the damage with her tongue before Isabela claimed its attention once more. Lana moaned loudly, as Isabela's finger slipped inside of her unexpectedly. She thrust her hips upwards almost unseating the pirate, as Isabela straddled her relentlessly, tightening her grip with her legs and curling her fingers inside of Hawke over and over, sending her into oblivion.

"Bela?"

"Shut it, Hawke."

"Bela...I..."

Isabela stopped and exhaled in frustration. "What? What is up with you tonight?" she groaned, stopping momentarily. "You're normally not this talkative when we're having sex...At least not before you've came that is."

"I.." Hawke bit her bottom lip as she stared up at her guiltily. "I have something to tell you."

Isabela pursed her lips and stared at her for a second before speaking. _Oh balls._ "If this is bad news then it'll have to wait, Sweetness. I'm so horny I could finger the crack of dawn right now."

Lana sniggered, then stopped herself. This was serious. She had to tell her now before they went any further.

"I know, and I'm so sorry, but I have to get this out," Hawke replied, psyching herself up. Isabela breathed out furiously and in frustration, then reluctantly climbed off her and sat herself down on the bed.

"Out with it then," she sighed, "What have you done now? I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"Well," Hawke began awkwardly, sitting up beside her. "It's more of a question of _who_ I _almost_ done."

Isabela's amber eyes glared at her then. "Please don't tell me you're talking about who I think you are. Hawke, I swear on Andraste's tits..."

"That depends. Who are you thinking of?"

"Don't play games with me, Sweetness. And don't play dumb either," Isabela warned. "If I've come all this way to see you and you've been sleeping with Leliana behind my back I'm going to bloody murder you."

"Technically I didn't sleep with her," Hawke said quickly, as Isabela jumped up and began to pace angrily.

 _So I was right then,_ she fumed. _Why am I not surprised?_

"What _did_ you do then?" the pirate demanded, "Explain it to me, Hawke. For someone who wanted to talk before, you've being awfully coy now. It's infuriating."

"We kissed once night a few weeks ago," Lana admitted quickly, "A lot. And I touched her for a moment, but that was it."

"No sex?" Isabela asked suspiciously, folding her arms under her massive breasts and glaring at Lana who was cowering in shame.

"No," Hawke replied. "No sex. I was drunk and emotional and when I realised what I was doing I stopped it before it really began. I'm sorry."

"That's not like you," Isabela accused, "Why did you stop? If you're as sexually-deprived as I am then that was quite a feat."

"I only tried to seduce her because I didn't know how to tell her about the Hero of Ferelden still being alive."

Isabela faltered. She couldn't fault Hawke's actions then. She'd have most likely done the same in her position. Sex was a great distraction, one that she had used many, many times. She was still angry with her though.

 _Why did she have to tell me this tonight? Maker's bloody balls, I've been waiting months to see her and now she drops this bombshell on me?_

"You knew each other, didn't you?" Lana asked then, watching Isabela from the bed. "The Hero of Ferelden?"

"I knew her as well as Zevran did," Isabela said, "Skin deep, that is. After the four of us slept together in the Pearl, we pretty much parted ways. I haven't seen her since."

"I'm curious," Hawke began, her face lined with confusion. "How did that foursome come about exactly? From what I've heard about Navarre Mahariel, and from what I saw in her letter to Leliana, she doesn't seem to like humans very much. How in all of Thedas did you seduce her?"

Isabela grinned cheekily. "Who knows?" she replied smugly. "The details on that night are foggy at best. Leliana will tell you it happened during the Blight, but I'm pretty sure it was after the Archdemon was slain. I couldn't tell you. I've slept with so many people since then."

Lana rolled her eyes. "Don't I know," she groaned.

"Hey! Don't turn this around on me!" Isabela snapped, riling up again. "While I've been off ruling the Eastern Seas and touching myself every which way, you've been dreaming up fantasies with your long lost love, Leliana."

"I'm sorry!" Hawke implored, "And it wasn't like that, I promise!"

"I'm not in the mood to talk about this now," Isabela snapped, "I've got the female equivalent of blue balls, and I didn't travel to Skyhold's frozen peak to argue with you, Hawke. Just take off your bloody clothes so we can get this over with and I can be angry with you in the morning."

"Fine!"

" _Fine!"_

Hawke tore off the remainder of her clothes rather unceremoniously, and stood ready, naked and full of attitude, offering herself up to Isabela's demands. "Is this what you want?" Lana yelled, holding out her hands. The Admiral stormed towards her and grabbed her roughly in response, shoving her up against the wall and grabbing her neck with one hand. As Lana's lips found hers for a moment, she pushed her back hard.

"Don't even think about kissing me," Isabela snarled, her eyes glaring into Lana's chocolate0brown ones. "I can't even look at you right now."

"Then don't," Hawke countered in a low voice.

Obliging, Isabela spun her around until they were both facing the wall and wrapped her arms around her from behind, sliding one down in between her legs, while the other cupped one of Lana's breasts. She felt Hawke's head fall back onto her shoulder and began to bite her way along the exposed skin on the woman's neck. Lana's soft moans became heavy breaths as Isabela's fingers drove her wild with desire. Something about the roughness of it all turned her on even more. Before she knew it she was holding the wall for support, feeling her body fall backwards into Isabela's, totally at her mercy. Her legs began to shake as she climaxed over and over and Isabela was the only thing keeping her upright.

"Maker!" she gasped, feeling the pirate's teeth break the skin on her shoulder. The pain was searing and pleasuring at the same time. She pushed her off with all her strength and turned around, seeing the fierce passion in Isabela's amber eyes, and knowing she wasn't out of the woods just yet. The Admiral reached into her pack by the foot of the bed and produced a familiar-looking sexual weapon of her choice. Lana remembered it being used on her once before, and watched warily and breathlessly as Isabela strapped it on. She then found herself backed up into the wall again, her legs lifted off the floor in one sweep and held high by Isabela's muscular arms. It was then that she felt it inside of her.

"Oh," she gasped, her eyes fleetingly rolling into the back of her head.

Each thrust of Isabela's hips sent her thudding painfully against the cold stone wall. There would be bruising tomorrow, she was sure of it. She could hear their flesh pounding together, sending her mind into spirals. She could feel the tense ripples cascading through her it all became too much to bear. The pirate's mouth found her neck again and began sucking along her collar bone, and Lana couldn't control herself any longer. It was magical, satisfying beyond belief to have Isabela back, doing what she did best. Angry sex wasn't exactly new for them, but it shattered every reunion she had fantasised between them the last six months they'd spent apart. She knew Isabela would still be angry with her in the morning, but right now, they were the only things that existed. Tomorrow would come when it did, but such mind-blowing sex would last all night, and that, Lana thought to herself, was as pleasurably torturous as she could ever have imagined.

##

The next morning Hawke opened her eyes sleepily, blinded by the early sun streaming in the open window and feeling like she could have slept for another few hours. A familiar sight, Isabela's black hair and bare back, greeted her, and she smiled. Her heart warmed, despite the night before, and she was relieved that when she slipped her arm around her, Isabela didn't throw it off. Sighing with contentment, Lana buried her face in the pirate's hair and inhaled her gorgeous wild scent. Isabela responded by reached back, stroking the arm that Hawke had lain across her midsection.

"Good morning, Sweetness," she greeted her, as both of them stared out the window together, hearing the birds chirping somewhere outside.

"Morning," Lana breathed in her ear, placing a kiss on her head, her voice rather hoarse from the amount of screaming she'd done the night before. "Still mad at me?"

"I'm always mad at you," Isabela joked.

Lana chuckled and held her tighter. "I think you got your own back on me last night," she teased, "I'm covered in bruises and my back's aching."

"Good. Then maybe you'll think twice about betraying me like that."

"Bela, look at me," Hawke said, leaning up on her arm. "Look at me!" She grabbed Isabela's shoulder and pulled her over, until the pirate was reluctantly on her back and staring up at her. "I'm sorry," she apologised again, caressing Isabela's tanned cheek softly. "I'm really sorry, love. It was a mistake, and Leliana and I have sorted it out already. There's nothing between us anymore, especially now that Navarre is back from the dead. We were both simply confused by the moment. You're the only one I love, I promise. You're the only one I'll ever love until the day The Maker comes for me."

"Oh, stop it, Hawke. You're making me want to vomit," Isabela grinned, "But...for the record, I'm glad. Just don't say anything that sappy to me ever again, got it? There are still some areas of you that I haven't bruised."

"Got it," Hawke chuckled. "So am I forgiven then?"

"For now."

"Maker, you've gotten so bossy since you became an Admiral!"

"I was always bossy in the bedroom, Hawke. You knew that," Isabela teased, her eyes twinkling.

"True," Hawke admitted, "But last night you were on an entirely different level."

"Six months, sweet thing," Isabela replied, "Six months...Just thank your lucky stars it wasn't a year. I wouldn't even have said 'hello' first."

Hawke laughed, and they both settled onto the pillow together once more. "Maker, I missed you," Lana whispered.

"I missed you too," Isabela sighed, "That's why I came to get you, sweet thing. I have some business back on the Eastern Seas that I could use your help with. We can take over together."

At this Hawke faltered. "I...I'm staying here, Isabela. I thought you knew that."

Isabela sat up and Hawke's arm fell away from her then. "What?" she asked, as Lana sat up beside her. "I thought you were done here."

"Truth be told, I've barely started. Corypheus is still out there, and now Bethany's arrived to help. Donnic is waiting for us in The Western Approach and the Inquisitor has arranged for us to leave tomorrow after a banquet in the Keep with nobles, who are helping our cause."

"What? Tomorrow!?" Isabela exclaimed, her face wrecked with disappointment. "Do you have to go? I mean, you don't have to keep playing the bloody hero, Hawke. They have the Inquisitor for that," she chuckled, "You've done your bit , now let's get out of here and as far away as possible."

"I wasn't _trying_ to be a hero," Hawke replied angrily, flinging back the covers and getting out of bed. She walked to the table in the corner and began to pour herself water from the pewter jug. "I was trying to atone for a mistake. It's my fault that Corypheus is still alive. All of this leads back to me. The Mages, the rebellion. All of it!"

"No, it doesn't!" Isabela countered sharply, getting up as well then and following her. "You already killed Corypheus once...Or thought you did. Same difference. This is not your fight. I'm begging you. Let the Inquisitor handle this crap. I can't lose you now, not after I only got you back. Not after all that we've been through together."

"You're not going to lose me," Hawke reassured her, placing a hand on either of Isabela's shoulders. The Rivaini snorted and waved her off, knocking Hawke's mug of water all over the floor.

"Oh please, you already tried to give your life away for stupid causes. Do you have a bloody death wish or something, Sweetness? Is my company not worth hanging around for?"

"Don't be silly," said Hawke, "How can you even ask me something like that? I love you, Isabela. More than anything!"

"Then start bloody acting like it!" Isabela yelled, holding Hawke's face. "Stop being so selfless for a world that doesn't give a damn about you! Start doing things for yourself! For us! Andraste's tits, why does it always feel like I'm competing against all of Thedas for you?"

"What?" Hawke breathed, trying to brush her off. "What in The Maker's name are you on about? You're not competing with anyone."

"Then why do I feel this way?" Isabela asked, releasing Hawke and beginning to pace. "Why is there always something new for you to do, some noble quest or some grand occasion? You don't even invite me to them anymore."

"Isabela, the last grand occasion we were both at you began fingering me under the table!"

"And you liked it!"

"I...know I did. But that's not the point. You were clearly bored! Why would I invite you to another one? I know you hate nobles."

"So do you!" Isabela challenged.

"I bloody detest them!" Hawke admitted, "But I still have to work with them to get what I want sometimes. We can't all be infamous raiders, controlling the Eastern Seas with a hundred men at our disposal."

"You were for a while," Isabela replied, "What, is that life not good enough for you now? _My_ life?"

"You and I both know that's not true!" Hawke scolded, pointing a finger of warning at Isabela before she overstepped the mark.

"Then stop this, Hawke. The constant heroics, the needless risk-taking? Aren't our lives risky enough without you throwing yourself at the feet of an Old God for the sake of humanity?"

Hawke's jaw clenched as she stared into Isabela's amber eyes. "That's who I am, Isabela. That's who I'll always be. Don't try to change me...Because we both know I never tried to change you."

Deciding that their argument was done, Hawke threw on the clothes nearest to her and stormed out of their living-quarters, slamming the door behind her. Isabela grabbed fistfuls of her hair then lashed out, knocking the jug of water against the wall and watching its contents spill everywhere.

##

"Ah, Rivaini, you two never change, do you?" Varric laughed, grinning up at his friend.

"She's as stubborn as the first day I met her," Isabela chuckled, "And I'm worse."

"She'll come around," Bethany offered, leaning on the ramparts beside the pirate and giving her a sympathetic pat on her arm. "I'm sure you didn't offend her that much. Maker knows, I'd rather she left with you and sailing far away from all this, but my sister never was one to take a back seat when there was adventure to be had."

"Likewise, Bethany. But even I know this is a fight that can't be won," Isabela said miserably, "She's going to die, and there's nothing I can do to save her."

"You could go with us," Varric suggested hopefully. "I know for a fact Hawke fights better with you by her side. She's so competitive sometimes."

Isabela chuckled. "I know," she replied fondly, "But I'm no hero, Varric. I don't get the same joy out of it that she does. I'd prefer to kill my old nemesis Lachlan Poole and take his fleet, than fight fade monsters and tainted Gods. Much more rewarding!"

Varric wheezed with laughter. "True!" he agreed, "Remind me why Hawke's staying here again? The last I checked she loved raiding with you."

"And Maker she was good at it," Isabela laughed.

"For the same reason that I am," Bethany said, bringing the conversation tone back to a serious one. "I was there," she told them, "I saw Corypheus fall. The Inquisition needs us. We all played our part in this destruction. It's time to help, for real this time."

Neither Varric nor Isabela could argue with her there. Their gallivanting in Kirkwall had set this entire situation into motion. They couldn't sit idly by and watch the world go to ruin around them. _And besides, what good would a fleet be with no one to raid and pillage if they all die in the war?_ Isabela thought to herself.

"I guess you're right," she relented, giving in finally, "I may as well stay and lend a hand. If Hawke's willing to die here, then I'd rather be at her side...Because I tell you now, when the final blow comes, I'm going too. This world isn't worth living in without her."

"Morbid," Varric teased, "I feel like I should pull you away from the ramparts in case you throw yourself over into the snow."

Isabela chuckled. "Don't worry, Varric, I'm much too selfish for that."

The three of them laughed and began to walk back along the wall, making their way towards the Keep.

"Where do you think Hawke's gone?" Isabela asked. "I should probably tell her the good newds. She always did know how to emotionally blackmail me into fighting for the greater good."

Bethany and Varric laughed.

"She's probably in my room," Bethany revealed, "I'm staying in the Keep. Sister Leliana found me a chamber before the recently arrived nobles snatched all of them up."

"Joy of joys," Isabela groaned, "I guess should pay Leliana a visit before I try to find her. Maker knows I owe her one."

"Try to leave her in once piece," Varric snorted. "We need our Spymaster."

"I'm just going to see an old friend," Isabela teased, "Trust me."

Neither Varric nor Bethany looked placated.

Suddenly a boy with dirty-blonde hair and a massive hat appeared in the distance.

"Who's that?" Isabela asked, straining her eyes to get a good look at him.

"That's Cole," Varric informed her, glancing at a piece of paper her pulled from his pocket with the young man's description. "Nice kid. He's...well, a little bit odd. And he has the power to just...make you forget him. That's why I wrote it all down, to remember him and remind myself that we already met."

"He's some kind of...Spirit," Bethany informed Isabela, consciously rubbing her wrist. "I don't know exactly what, but I can sense him when he's near. The Inquisitor recruited him after he saved their lives in Haven. She's the only one who doesn't have much problem remembering him. Maybe because he lets her."

"What's the deal with his hat?" Isabela asked, grinning at the sight. "I thought it was only me who wore oversized ones, and this man is no Admiral. He's too small for one."

"You'll have to ask him," Varric laughed, "Maybe it shields him from the voices in his head."

"Who are you talking about?" Isabela asked, confused.

"That boy over there." He pointed to the wall where Cole had been sitting to find it devoid of life. In Isabela's eyes he was evidently gone.

"What boy?" Isabela laughed, staring at Varric like he was seeing things. Varric rolled his eyes. It seemed the pirate had forgotten Cole already.

"One day," he muttered, more to himself than the others, "I'm going to begin to understand what that kid really is."


	13. The Pirate and The Bard

Admiral Isabela wasn't sure if she liked Skyhold much. It was cold and dank, and made purely of stone, reminding her a little too much of Kirkwall's Hightown. _And Maker's balls, we all know how much I detested that place, even with the added attraction of Hawke living there._ Sure, she could see the appeal for the good folk of Haven, who had been in dire need of a secure city after Corypheus' attack, but she just couldn't wait to be on the road again. If Isabela was totally and brutally honest ( _Which is a rare treat, seeing as I normally lie through my teeth)_ it was the most sinfully boring place she'd ever stayed in. There was nothing at all interesting to look at. The landscape's snowy peaks became repetitive and their beauty wore off after a few hours, and the people seemed like nothing more than simple farmers and blacksmiths. Where were the whores? Where were the smugglers? The pirates? The Guilds? Or maybe it was simply the fact that Skyhold still held the feeling of having been left empty for years upon years. The Inquisition hadn't been here long enough to stamp its signature on the place.

Thankfully, Isabela's weather-beaten skin didn't feel the cold as much as Skyhold's other inhabitants, but still she found herself pulling her long blue pirate coat closer around her, shuddering against the midday breeze. She climbed the ramparts with the agility of a woman half her age, and heaved herself up onto the balcony above that housed the Crow's Nest, which instinct told her Leliana would reside. _If I was a spy, that's where I'd surely be...Plus that's the place mostly covered in bird shit._

Skipping over said excrement, Isabela's boots danced in between it skilfully, careful not to slip in the black and white mess. _Maker's Breath, did Leliana leave this here as a trap of some sort?_ Not wanting to add shit stains to the bloody splodges on her newest pair of boots, Isabela jumped the last few strides in one giant leap and burst through the wooden door rather thunderously, sending it cascading against the stone wall behind it.

"AAaagh!"

Sister Leliana yelped, grabbing her bow and spinning round in a flash with an arrow trained at Isabela's head. Seeing the pirate's guilty grin, and recognition coming over her, she lowered her weapon and sighed. "Isabela!" she said, turning back to her work then, completely unperturbed. "I should have known."

"You saw me arrive yesterday?" Isabela asked, closing the door behind her, blocking out the sunlight. She stared around her, taking in the surroundings, watching out for birds overhead. _I've just washed my hair!_ She could hear the little blighters squawking animatedly somewhere up in the highest point of the tower.

"Saw you coming?" Leliana asked smugly, "I saw you dock in Guarin, Isabela. For such a feared raider of the Eastern Seas, and skilful as you are, you still lack the mastery of tact."

Isabela giggled, amused. "I guess I didn't help my cause much by bursting into your lair like an Ogre on stilts, did I?"

Leliana chuckled despite herself. "No, you didn't," she grinned. "In any case, you're still the first person to come and visit me who hasn't slipped in bird poop. Take from that what you will."

Isabela tittered with laughter then began to walk about, as Leliana continued to oversee her numerous letters, scanning them all in one as though looking for something in particular. She seemed to be determinedly ignoring her.

"Nice place you've got here," the pirate began, realising it was up to her to start off the conversation. "Lots of little birdys feeding you information. My , my, we are connected, aren't we? You've certainly moved up in the world, and I don't just mean that literally."

The Spymaster snatched a particular interesting piece from Isabela's grasp and tossed it back onto the table. "Can I help you with something?" she asked pointedly, sliding the other letters into a pile away from the pirate's beady eyes and slipping them into a drawer. "Or did you just come up here to snoop?"

Isabela's cheeky grin spread from ear to ear. "Perhaps a bit of both," she teased, "Although now that you mention it, I did have a purpose for navigating my way through the shitty maze outside to get to you."

"Oh? And what is that?"

"Hawke," Isabela said simply.

Leliana instantly looked awkward, and she walked away from Isabela, beginning to read her letters by the other table once more. The Admiral instantly resumed her snooping while the woman's back was turned.

 _Ooo look! A diamond ring!_

"Oh..." Leliana replied simply, not looking at her.

"I gather by that 'Oh' that you already know why I'm here," Isabela continued, while simultaneously reading a note from a scout named Harding, and having secretly pocketed the ring. _Ha! 'Harding' Hightown,_ she laughed inwardly. _Varric would get a kick out of that._

"It has to do with the night Lana told me of Navarre's survival, no?" Leliana hazarded a guess. "The night we almost..."

"Yes, the night you almost...And sort of," Isabela replied playfully, storing the letter into her cleavage while Leliana couldn't see her. It had some handy information that she'd be sure to exploit later. "I had a good mind to come up here and challenge you to a duel, you know, for my honour and all that. But I decided I'd much rather blackmail you instead."

Sister Leliana finally gave her her full attention then, meeting Isabela's amber glare with her own piercing blue one, both women coming to a standoff.

"No wonder the sky is grey today, all the blue is in your eyes," Isabela joked.

"Don't try to flatter me, Bela. I know your tricks."

The pirate folded her arms then, and pursed her lips together, observing her apparent competition.

"Do you now?"

"You don't scare me," Leliana said, betraying no hint of fearing the most notorious raider in the Eastern Seas. Many would have shuddered under her imposition, but Leliana was just as skilled, if not more so, in the arts of intimidation and extraction. She was not easily swayed by flattery or other methods. She was a master of the Game.

"Oh please," Isabela chuckled, relaxing her stance to Leliana's surprise and sitting down on the nearest chair, crossing her legs and lounging back, as though entirely at ease. "That's not my style and you know it, Leliana. I'm not one for flexing my muscles and beating you down. That's crude and amateurish! I simply came here to tell you that I've decided to stay and help the Inquisition."

Leliana looked taken aback. "You...What?"

"It's true!" Isabela smiled, "But there's one condition...Two, in fact, now that I know what you Inquisition lot are earning after reading your correspondence." Leliana rolled her eyes, and Isabela could almost hear her cursing 'Pirate's!' in her head. "If I have your word that you'll leave Hawke alone, and you give me 500 sovereigns along with a bottle of your finest whiskey, I'll pledge myself to this stupid 'saving the world' nonsense and fight by Hawke's side for as long as she plans to stay in this shithole and be the Inquisitor's aide."

"And what makes you think we need you?" Leliana asked, not sounding too keen on the idea. The Admiral wasn't fooled by her tone however. She'd been at this game long enough to know if even the most skilled player was lying to her. A trait she and Leliana both shared in fact.

"Oh don't play hardball, Leliana. It's not becoming," Isabela snorted, "I can practically see the excitement in your eyes at having my men and I on your side. You need us! You've not so many followers that you can choose to be picky. Didn't I see a bloody Qunari in that hole you call a tavern?"

Reluctantly, Leliana's tough expression lessened then. She settled on the side of her desk and sighed. "I can't deny that you would be useful," she admitted ruefully, throwing her a little smile. "And Hawke will be much more focused on the tasks at hand with you here...But it's your motivations that worry me, Isabela. You've already proven more than once that you can't be trusted."

"Says the woman who kissed _my_ woman and then some, behind my back," Isabela challenged.

"Touché," Leliana surrendered, shifting guiltily.

Isabela's cheeky smile was getting wider, and she knew she had Leliana in a corner now. "Do we have a deal?" she asked, rather enjoying herself.

"Isn't that three things?" Leliana corrected, totting them up in her head. "A favour, coin, _and_ a bottle of whiskey?"

"No," Isabela shook her head, "The coin is my new fee, and the favour is because you owe me for frolicking with Hawke. The whiskey was only an afterthought when I saw it on the shelf behind your head."

Leliana glanced over her shoulder and groaned. She had evidently received a gift and forgotten to hide it from prying eyes. It wasn't as if she had expected any visitors though, and certainly not a drunken pirate with an uncanny affinity for fine ports and spirits.

"You've got me, it seems," the Spymaster sighed, "I'll stay away from Lana, if that is your request. I don't want to come between you. I never did...Although I must admit, I'm a bit surprised she didn't tell you about the threesome. I thought it was a good idea to get all the sexual tension out of the way."

"What bloody threesome!?" Isabela exclaimed, almost falling backwards while rocking playfully in her wooden chair. She hammered back to this world with a thud.

"Oh nothing," Leliana smiled, waving her off, "I guess we'll never know now..."

She turned back to her work dismissively, as Isabela became intrigued. _Have I missed something?_ She leaned over on her legs, and observed Leliana as she pretended to be busy. "Nice try," the pirate chuckled, "I'm not falling for that one. Hawke didn't mention anything about a threesome to me. You're bluffing!"

"Maybe I am...Or maybe not," Leliana teased, throwing her a wink. "You'll just have to ask her yourself, won't you? But, I mean, if you still want me to stay away from her, then that's what I'll do. I swear on The Maker himself. You have my word."

It was a few seconds for the pirate to respond, as her perverted brain tried to process this new piece of information.

"Oo well played," Isabela grumbled ruefully, "You certainly are a master manipulator, Leliana. I'll give you that. I feel for the poor bastards who crossed you when you were a Bard."

"And I pity the men and women who've fallen for you blackmail over the years," Leliana replied in kind, "But it seems we're at a checkmate."

Isabela growled. "It seems we are," she agreed, getting to her feet. "Still, have my coin ready for me by dinner time. I hear we're having a banquet before setting off...And if you're lying about this threesome business then I might just challenge you to that duel after all. I never joke about sex without following through on my promises."

"Oh, Josephine's going to have a fit when she finds out you're attending dinner," Leliana chuckled. "I can see it now! She's already up in arms about the nobles coming. Imagine two fugitives in the eyes of The Maker arriving to butt heads with the highborn investors."

"That's the Antivan ambassador, right? I met her last night with Hawke and Varric and had a few drinks. Nice girl, for a politician," Isabela grinned. "But I'm rather looking forward to pissing off the stuffed shirts with Hawke on my arm. Be just like old times!"

"Let us not have another Kirkwall," Leliana warned, "You're to be on your best behaviour, or the Inquisitor has Cullen's word to lock you two in the brig."

"Cullen? Pah!" Isabela snorted, "Now that you mention it though, that nob-gobbler and I need to talk. I think I've just worked out who Bethany's crush is."

"Her crush?" Leliana exclaimed. She looked as troubled as Isabela then."Hmm...Why don't you leave that to me? I've always been closer to her. I'll find out what's going on."

"If you say so," Isabela replied, shrugging, "I just hope I'm there when Hawke finally figures it out and gets her hands on him. Balls, that woman is a menace when it comes to her family, and Bethany's the only one she's got left."

Leliana didn't look pleased at this, but she couldn't fault Lana for defending her sister from harm. An apostate mage and a former Templar shacking up could spell trouble for the Inquisition and their followers.

"Leave it to me," she vowed. Isabela nodded curtly.

"Well, I better get back to...whatever I'm supposed to be doing," Isabela said, realising their business was concluded. "Drinking sounds like a winner."

She began to walk to the door.

"Isabela?" The pirate turned back to find Leliana grinning. "I'll take my letter back."

Exhaling in disappointment, Isabela pulled the letter out from between her cleavage and tossed it back on the table again.

"Memorized it anyway," she chuckled, before turning to leave again.

"And the ring!" Leliana called after her again.

The pirate rolled her eyes and walked back, taking the diamond ring from her pocket and tossing it onto the desk with the letter.

"Sorry," she joked impishly. "My kleptomania's getting worse."

Leliana rolled her eyes and fought the urge to smile.

"It's so good to see you, Bela," she said sincerely.

Isabela grinned. "Good to see you to, Lel. Don't forget to smile every once in a while. Keep making that face it'll get stuck like that."

Leliana laughed musically. "I'll have to remember that."

Isabela threw her a wink and turned on her heel for the last time, making her way out or the birds nest and greeting the daylight once more.

##

"You may be asked to leave soon, you're making all the other women in here look bad."

Hawke looked up from her pint in Skyhold's tavern to find Isabela smiling over her shoulder.

"You owe me a drink."

"Why?"

" Because when I looked at you I dropped mine," Hawke chuckled.

The pirate kissed her on the cheek and say down beside her, ordering a pint of her own and grabbing another for her love. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

"I heard," Lana replied, "You even paid a visit to Leliana."

"We had things to discuss," Isabela said evasively, "And you've been holding out on me." When Lana looked confused she added : "The threesome proposal? About the only proposal I've ever been swayed by! How could you not tell me about it?"

"Oh!" Lana chuckled. "So she told you then? I wasn't going to say anything in case you took it the wrong way. I don't want to sleep with her again, Bela. I've got you. It's in the back of my mind, I promise."

"You're a shitty liar, Hawke," the Admiral sniggered. "And since when have I ever said no to a threesome?"

"Since the person we'd be screwing is someone I used to be in love with?" Hawke ventured, "Come on! Tell me you wouldn't be ok with that. We already discovered you had a jealous side."

Isabela sipped her freshly pulled pint and tossed a sovereign on the counter in payment. "I'll admit it'll be weird, but no weirder than anything else I've ever done," she chuckled. "Balls, did I tell you about the dwarf in drag?"

"Too many times," Hawke groaned, rolling her eyes and shuddering. "That mental image took weeks to leave my head."

They both laughed.

"Sorry, sweetness...But are we doing it then?" Isabela asked eagerly. "I'd really like to participate this time, when you and Leliana fall into each other's arms again. I love threesomes! Two pairs of tits instead of one!"

"Why this sudden change of heart?" Lana asked suspiciously, "Last night you practically rode me to death over my encounter with Leliana, and this morning you were still angry with me for some reason or other. Why are you suddenly so eager for us to jump into bed with the Inquisition's Spymaster, especially now that you know Navarre's still alive? I don't know about you, but I don't much fancy the idea of the Hero of Ferelden on our asses. Don't we have enough bounty hunters haunting our steps?"

"Oh come on, Hawke! Why do you always have to over think everything?" Isabela moaned. "I've been at sea for months! I'm so turned on that this table is lucky I'm not rubbing up against it!" Hawke snorted into her pint. "And besides," Isabela continued, "Leliana looks like she could do with a good seeing to. She looks heavy with grief. It's a look that doesn't suit her. The Divine's death must have hit her hard."

"That's exactly what I thought," Lana agreed. "But I'm not sure us two poking and prodding her from every direction will help!"

"Well why else would she have suggested it?" Isabela countered. At this Hawke faltered, and the truth came to her at last.

 _Leliana wants this to happen..._

"Look," Isabela continued, passion burning in her eyes. "I don't know where Navarre is and neither do you. Neither does she! We're leaving with the Inquisitor tomorrow so let's just seduce her tonight after dinner and have done with it. Maker, I can feel myself quiver already!"

Hawke sighed and contemplated the idea. Finally she nodded in agreement, feeling her heart backflip as she did so. They were really doing this. Isabela whooped with enthusiasm beside her and downed the rest of her pint in one. Suddenly Hawke grabbed her arm.

"What did you mean by 'we'?" she asked.

Isabela looked confused. "Er...It takes three people for it to be a threesome, sweet thing. Did you really think I was going to sit this one out?"

"No," Hawke said then, shaking her head, realising that Isabela had misunderstood the question. "What I meant was, what did you mean about 'we're leaving with the Inquisitor tomorrow'? Are you planning on coming with us?"

Isabela reached out and touched Lana's cheek gently, staring into her eyes and wearing a warm smile. "I'm staying, sweetness. I'll fight by your side again. I can't do another six months at sea without you."

Hawke's eyes filled with emotion then and she pulled Isabela towards her, meeting the pirate with a soft, passionate kiss that seemed to melt away the centre of the earth. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Not only was the threesome with Leliana going to happen, but she also had Isabela back at her side for the rest of her adventure. It was all too much to bear. With the pirate here, she was whole again, and nothing, not even a tainted God, felt like it could stop her.


	14. Hurtled into the Chaos, You Fight

_**A/N: The real adventure starts with this chapter guys, in case any of you were wondering why most of this story so far has been easy going/drunken shenanigans/plot teasers. Shit has well and truly hit the fan from this chapter onward. It's redemption time! :P Hope you all enjoy! Thanks for the reviews :)  
**_

* * *

Anyone who didn't know them would be fooled into thinking that Lana Hawke and Isabela were nice, respectable, well-mannered women on a night such as this. Together, along with Varric and Bethany, they sat deep amongst the nobles at Skyhold's long elegant dining table, looking just as important as the dignitaries. Their hairs were freshly washed, their faces clean, and they had put on their best clothing for the occasion: Hawke, a brand new red robe, reminiscent of one she wore in Kirkwall, made and sent north by Charade a week ago ; Isabela, a clean white shirt/russet brown corset ensemble, complete with a dark brown leather breeches and knee boots. Thankfully she had taken off her ridiculous red pirate hat for the occasion (and put on some damn pants!). But appearances were to be deceptive it seemed. For if one neared close enough to hear what was being discussed at their end of the table, the one furthest from the Inquisitor and her advisors, it would soon become apparent that these were not the classy, well-to-do women as first appeared. In fact, they were absolute scoundrels.

"So, what you're telling me," Bethany began, with an incredulous glance at Varric who was to her right. She stared back at her sister and Isabela sitting facing her, drinks in front of them as per usual, waiting patiently for the servers to offer them their first course of the evening. "Is that, while the world is on the brink of destruction and everyone fears for their lives, you two geniuses have put your brains together and... decided that you're going to seduce Sister Leliana during dinner?"

She hissed the last bit in a low whisper, glancing down the opposite side of the table to make sure Leliana and the others hadn't overheard their conversation. Luckily the nobles were ignoring them, all fawning over Ellana. The elf looked rather nervous around them. As a Dalish she obviously wasn't used to this much human attention, or this much grandeur. The Herald of Andraste was a tough mantel to carry. Her slight frame and thin arms obviously didn't reflect the strength within though. But how long would it be before she cracked, or looked for comfort in the arms of another? Being the hero was a lonely job after all, and one that lasted a lifetime.

"Isn't it glorious!?" Isabela exclaimed excitedly, her eyes lighting up with anticipation. Clearly she hadn't picked up on Bethany's tone of voice. "I think we should play it cool though, sweetness," she added, turning to Lana, "I mean, should we save it for the main course? Or just jump right into desert? Two women on Leliana's plate is probably way too much for a starter."

Both women broke into laughter, drawing disgruntled glares from the nobles who had been placed beside them. Clearly they were the least important of the bunch, having been positioned next to the rowdies, and furthest away from Ellana. They turned their attention back to the Inquisitor again and tried desperately to block out the rest of the on-going conversation behind them. Bethany's face was priceless. Varric looked like he was trying to keep his composure but failing miserably. His lips were pressed together hard to stop himself from laughing at his friends. He seemed to have picked up on Bethany's mood, although Lana and Isabela remained blissfully oblivious for the moment. The youngest Hawke's face was wrinkled with confusion, like she was trying to comprehend how sleeping with Leliana would help the Inquisition exactly. Wasn't that the reason they were here after all?

"I think we should act like nothing's amiss, Bela," Lana said, smiling slyly, "We don't want to go planning anything too much. Leliana might get suspicious, and it will take all the fun out of it if we ruin the surprise."

"Good plan, gorgeous. Though chances are she already knows," Isabela sighed miserably, "I didn't give her a straight answer, but this is a Spymaster we're talking about. She has her fingers in many pies."

"And soon we'll have our fingers in hers."

They both laughed at the innuendo and clinked glasses, swallowing a shot of whiskey. Varric snorted ale out his nose and covered his mouth with his hand, trying not to let Bethany see him laughing behind it. Suddenly the youngest of the four of them couldn't keep her temper in check any longer.

"Maker's Breath, what is _wrong_ with you both!?" she yelled, jumping to her feet, kicking her chair out from behind her. The entire dinner party fell instantaneously silent, and all eyes stared in their direction. The Inquisitor stood up at the head of the table.

"Is everything alright?" she asked kindly.

Hawke and Isabela had stopped laughing now. Bethany very rarely yelled, much less yelled at them, and even less so in a room full of people. She was never one to make a scene. This was a rare occasion. The dinner table suddenly turned colder, the atmosphere becoming as frosty as the mountain peaks outside.

"N-nothing, Lady Inquisitor. My apologies...Bethany, sit down!" Hawke hissed to her in asides, shifting uncomfortably under everybody's gaze. The party had gone from ignoring them, to giving them their full, undivided attention.

 _Great. I think I preferred when they were ignoring us._

"No, I won't," Bethany said, "I won't sit here any longer and listen to you talk like this, Lana. She's my friend. I'm putting my foot down. It's too hard to watch you fall down this slippery slope."

Leliana seemed to understand what they were discussing then. "Bethany, please," she begged her gently, hoping she wasn't going to be embarrassed in front of their guests by the threesome revelation. "Sit back down and we can talk about this later, yes?"

Bethany looked upset that Leliana seemed to be in on the plan then. Evidently this was something she had assumed Lana, or more likely Isabela, had cooked up on their own, mischievous as they were. Before she could respond, she was interrupted by Lana.

"What slippery slope?" Lana asked, taken aback by her little sister's reaction to their typical good-natured jesting. "What's the matter with you tonight? You're acting very...odd."

"What's the matter?" Bethany repeated angrily, leaning on the table with her arms, towering over the top of them like a mother scolding her misbehaving children. "What's the matter? Why, nothing, Sister. Not according to you and Isabela anyway. You just sit around making jokes all day long."

"And? What did we do wrong?" Isabela protested innocently, looking just as stunned as Hawke.

"Oh, nothing!" Bethany said sarcastically. "Since you've got here all you've done is screwed each other constantly and drank in the tavern. Maker's Breath, it's like Kirkwall all over again."

Isabela frowned. "I've only been here a day or so," she replied coldly, "And I haven't seen Hawke in six months, Beth. Plus we've only had sex once. So clearly you're talking out of your arse."

"Bethany, sit down. This is an important dinner," Hawke said, her face burning. "You're making a scene."

"And _you!_ " Bethany continued, rounding on her elder sister again then. Lana gulped. "So much for coming to help the Inquisition! You've been here for weeks and you've made little to no progress! Don't you care about Corypheus? Don't you realise the world is sitting on the edge of a knife?"

"Of course I do!" Hawke responded, beginning to feel a little stung by Bethany's words. She shifted embarrassedly, as she felt the eyes of the nobles on her now, as they realised Bethany had a point. She could almost hear the accusations everyone was throwing at her.

 _Why did she even bother to come here?_

 _This is all her fault!_

 _She started this in Kirkwall!_

 _She's the most dishonourable piece of filthy to ever grace Thedas._

As if this dinner wasn't going to be hard enough to get through with her infamy, Bethany had just gone and made things ten times worse. Cassandra Pentaghast and that bastard Cullen were looking wary on either side of Ellana, as though Hawke was nothing but a troublemaker who would soon need to be put down. Truth be told, Bethany was beginning to make her feel like one. "I told you in Lothering that I was coming here to lend a hand. Why else would I be here, Sister?"

"Search me," Bethany snarled, shrugging, beside herself with annoyance. "But I'm starting to see why everything went south for you in Kirkwall."

Hawke was stung.

The nobles "Ooh'd" and some gasped. She had just said what they were all thinking, but didn't have the balls to say themselves. Lana thought she heard Sister Leliana sigh in disappointment somewhere at the far end of the table. She watched Josephine place a comforting hand on her back to console her. _Well, this night's not panning out like I'd hoped. I was really looking forward to that threesome. Cheers, Beth!_

Hawke stared up at Bethany as though wondering who this older, harsher woman was who had taken her place. Slowly the Champion of Kirkwall got to her feet, ignoring Isabela's hand that had covered hers, signalling that she realised Bethany had overstepped some sort of line. Hawke was shaking.

"What's gotten into you?" she asked hoarsely. The girl standing before her was not the Bethany she knew, not even slightly. "How dare you throw Kirkwall in my face...I...D-don't you dare talk to me about what happened there! You have no idea!"

"Isn't that what you did though?" Bethany challenged, "Sat and drank with Isabela, Varric, and all the others in The Hanged Man? Ignoring threat after threat as Aveline tried to warn you about them? The writing was on the wall in Kirkwall for years, and you just sat back and distanced yourself from it all, when you should have taken action sooner. You're doing exactly the same thing here."

"I helped Aveline and the City Guard for years!" Hawke shouted menacingly, swiping at her mug of whiskey and knocking it all over the table in anger. "I was pulled and tugged every which way by those who ran that hole of a city! Cullen could tell you that if he could get his head out of pompous ass for one second!"

"Don't insult him like that!" Bethany snarled.

"I bled for you Bethany! For Isabela, for Varric, for Merrill, for Fenris! For every single blasted person in Kirkwall, I bled!" Hawke yelled.

"And Mother?" Bethany asked, reckless now. "Uncle Gamlen?"

"You tell me!" Hawke snapped, "If you hadn't been so busy helping Anders with his manifesto and got yourself locked up in the Gallows, you might have noticed I was drowning under the pressure."

Bethany flinched like she'd been slapped. "How dare you..."

Hawke sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I can't keep having this same discussion," she whispered, more to herself than to Bethany. "I can't do this anymore...I won't."

She slid out from behind her chair, leaving the table. She felt like a stranger to them all now. Something was happening inside her that she couldn't very well explain.

"Hawke, where are you going?" Isabela called, amongst the scraping of chairs on stone, as more of the table got to their feet, watching her go in shock. The pirate's footsteps followed her, but Bethany got their first. She grabbed Lana by the arm and spun her around.

"Get off me," Hawke said sadly, grabbing her sister's wrists. Bethany recoiled, pulling her arm free as though Lana had hurt her. Curious, Lana's eyebrows narrowed, and she grabbed her sister's sleeve again, tugging her closer despite her struggling. She tore away the fabric before Bethany could protest. Lana's breath caught in her throat, and she felt her heart sink to the pit of her stomach. Bethany's forearm bore thin, pale scars, one after the other.

Open mouthed, Lana stared at her in disbelief.

"Bethany...Flaming blight, what have you done?" she whispered, truly frightened for the first time in her life. The dream about her family entered her head then, and Hawke realised her father's warning had been right.

Bethany shook her arm free and stood straight and proud.

"I helped," she said scornfully, "I did what you promised to do, and failed."

Hawke's jaw clenched and she released her sister in disgust, as though she was contagious. She had never been so sickened in all her days. This wasn't her Bethany. The gentle, loving, caring sister she knew would never have succumbed to this. Hawke turned to leave once more.

"That's right, walk out on me again!" Bethany said harshly, "Too many dinners you've turned your back on me. What did I ever do to deserve it?"

"Nothing," Lana replied, staring over her shoulder at her, deeply hurt by her words. "But you've made the biggest mistake of your life now, Beth. The same mistake Father made...You stupid, _stupid_ girl."

"I stepped up!" Bethany snarled, while the others looked on, confused. "I did something! You're not the only Hawke who's able to help. When it was needed, I responded. I didn't drink myself into a stupor and hide away in my room, playing crazy sex games with my pirate lover."

"Hey!" Isabela protested. "That hurt!"

"Don't get me started, Bela," Bethany warned.

"Leave her out of this. It's got nothing to do with her. And you want to know why I drink all the time, Sister? Because I'm tired," Lana revealed, "I'm tired of having to prove myself to everyone. I'm tired of shouldering the blame. I'm tired of everyone thinking I owe them something, but that's all it seems like I'm worth. All I'm ever worth."

"You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself and start acting like a proper Champion," Bethany challenged.

"Proper Champions can have threesomes too, Beth. In fact they deserve them more for their hard work."

"Be quiet, Bela!"

"I'm only saying," Isabela sighed, "You're kind of ruining a great night we had planned here. All parties involved agreed and-"

"Shut it!"

"Sit down, Sunshine," Varric pled, cringing as he watched her flail. "Please. Come, I'll pour you a goblet of wine."

"No!" Bethany refused, "I won't, and neither will my sister. I've had enough." She turned back to Hawke. "Stop sitting around, wasting your life and everyone else's because you haven't got the stones to stand up to Corypheus. He's going to destroy us, Lana!"

"I killed him once," Hawke reminded her, rounding on her again. "I killed him and he got right back up again! How do you expect me to...How do you expect the Inquisitor to? I mean, the pressure you people put on Ellana!" She broke free from Bethany and squared off with the table full of important dignitaries, all of whom looked stunned at the unfolding events. The Inquisitor was still standing at the head of the table, so slight and pale already. And the war had barely even touched her yet. She was so young, much too young and pure to be leading these faithful fanatics.

Hawke's chocolate-brown eyes stared directly into hers.

"Don't let them do to you what they did to me," she told her softly, the passion burning fiercely them. "Don't let them beat you... Don't let them take everything that you are, Inquisitor. Because they will try, believe me. And in the end you'll have nothing left but the worst parts of who you once were, and you'll spend forever trying to piece yourself back together."

Isabela sank back into her seat, stunned, staring at the floor. Silence followed Hawke's powerful words. Seething, Lana tore her gaze from Ellana and she walked towards the exit. Bethany didn't try to stop her this time. She watched her sister walk past her without a second glance, and push open the heavy door, letting it slam definitively closed.

As soon as she was away from the Keep, Hawke broke into a run down the steps and towards the tavern. She raced up to her bedroom and frantically packed some of her stuff into a satchel, then threw her red and silver light armor on over the top of her robe, pulling on her steel boots. Noticing Isabela's blue bandana on the dresser, she grabbed it quickly and chucked it into her pocket. Leaving half her stuff behind, she raced back down the stairs and outside into the evening air.

It had started to pour. Thick blankets of rain hammered against Lana's face as she ran deeper into the pits of Skyhold towards the stables. She passed a young, blond haired boy wearing a massive hat, and splashed him with muck as she past. He didn't seem to care, didn't even acknowledge his ruined clothes, but simply stared after her curiously, sorrow in his eyes, as though he wanted to help but didn't know how.

 _Screw this!_ Lana thought miserably, full of white hot rage. _Screw it all. Kirkwall! The Inquisition! The end of the world! Corypheus!_ She knew what she had to do, and she knew no one could help her now. It was time to redeem herself. As a marauder of the world, she never really considered the mess she left behind her everywhere she went. She had ballsed up at Kirkwall, yes, but she hadn't had the chance to clean up after herself. Things spiralled out of her control so quickly, while she was busy trying to survive. And now Corypheus was taking over, and again she found herself responsible once more, for a world on the brink of destruction.

 _Why didn't he die the first time? Why does every good deed I do tend to come back and bite me in the ass?_

Her father's life sounded very similar to hers in that moment. They had always been close. He understood her, because he had been through it himself she realised now. Being the protector, being the hero, being responsible for those he loved. He had done a desperate thing, and locked Corypheus away with Blood Magic all those years ago. If he could talk to his daughters now, he would surely tell them that it wasn't the way. Lana knew this, but why didn't Bethany? Bethany knew little of Blood Magic, as their father had never taught her of it, wanting her to remain pure and not give the Templars another reason to hunt her. _She must have picked up the basics in the Circle,_ Lana cursed, seeing the irony there. There was no way she could sit back now and let her sister turn herself into an abomination out of sheer desperation. Bethany was smarter than this. She has clearly been warped by fear and guilt. Lana wasn't about to sit by and do nothing when the last member of her family was consorting with demons.

Isabela wouldn't like Lana's plan. To the Void with that! It had to be done anyway. But the pirate had hit the nail on the head when they argued the morning after she returned. She was constantly in competition with the rest of the world over Hawke. Lana loved Isabela with all her heart. Of course she did. She'd never loved anyone this way. She never even thought she could. But the Rivaini was constantly being overtaken as a priority. Lana was always putting other people's needs first. It was unintentional of course, and because Isabela didn't complain about it much, Hawke barely had the time to realise it herself. Almost every instance Isabela wanted to go on an adventure together, Hawke found herself tied down, knee deep in other people's problems. On occasion, she found a brief reprieve, and got a glimpse at how wonderful and exciting her life would be alongside the Queen of the Eastern Seas. But again, something had come up to drag her away. Now it was becoming blatantly obvious Isabela was being consistently and mercilessly overtaken.

 _But this would surely be the last time,_ Lana vowed to herself. _If I survive this war, nothing, and I mean nothing, is going to come between Isabela and I again. She deserves far better than I have given her so far._

Chucking her coin-filled purse to the Inquisition's horse-master without a word when she reached the stables, Lana took the closest mount, seeing it was already prepared for riding. It was a black mare, proud and tall. She threw her bags over its hind, hearing it snort in reply and then hoisted herself up onto its back, taking the reins in her hands. After this day, no one would dare say that Lana Hawke didn't give her all to stop Corypheus. After this day her debts to the world would be repaid in full, and she could be at peace with herself once more. No more regrets. No more bullshit. No more messing around.

Slipping her feet into the stirrups, Hawke squeezed either side of the horse, and the black beauty took off like the wind, taking her out the gates of Skyhold, away, far away, alone and into the velvety blackness of the night.


	15. And the World Will Shake Before you

Later that night, Isabela sat on Hawke's bed, alone and dejected. She clutched a discarded piece of the Lana's clothing in her hand, her jaw clenched. A massive weight began to rest over her heart, weighing it down like a tonne. _She's gone.._. Isabela was stung. It seemed like another lifetime ago they were having fun together at dinner, making plans to playfully tie Sister Leliana to the Inquisitor's throne and give her the greatest sexual experience of her life. Neither Hawke nor Isabela had had sex on a throne before. _It would have been wonderful,_ the pirate lamented. _And now the moment is over._ At first glance, Hawke's bedroom had seemed untouched, but the longer Isabela sat, the more she began to notice the small signs of her love's departure. Lana's armor and most of her essentials were missing. Her room was a mess. She had obviously left in a hurry. It was as though she couldn't bear to be in Skyhold for a second longer. The night had swallowed her up in one gulp and she had fallen off the face of Thedas. Isabela couldn't quite come to terms with it.

"She left?" a surprised voice asked.

Isabela looked towards the door and found Leliana standing there, taking in the signs as the pirate had done herself, not ten minutes before her. Leliana's piercing blue eyes began to swim in tears. Sadly, Isabela nodded, unable to find the words to admit it out loud.

"Where's Bethany?" she asked instead, knowing Lana's little sister would be kicking herself right now for her outburst. Clearly she had been holding it back for some time, but surely she hadn't meant for it to come out tonight, if at all. She was obviously just frustrated and scared. A lot of people were. And what she said wasn't entirely wrong, it was just not something Hawke needed to hear, least of all from Bethany, her one family stone holding her to sanity.

Leliana sighed, crestfallen at the news. She walked over to the bed, placing herself down beside Isabela. The Rivaini watched her take her purple hood down and tuck a short lock of red hair behind her ear, trying to hold back her tears. Leliana's cerulean eyes darted around the room, observing like Isabela, the numerous indications that Hawke had really left them, though scarcely believing it.

"With Cullen," the spymaster answered finally, after a moment's silence to compose herself. "I asked him to take care of Bethany while the Inquisitor is gone."

"Do you think that's wise?" Isabela questioned, "I always thought he had a thing for her. If Hawke were here..."

She stopped, remembering that Lana wasn't, and feeling her heart shatter all over again.

"Hawke will be ok, Bela," Leliana reassured her, giving her a smile of understanding, seeing how deflated she appeared. An emotional Isabela was a rare sight.

"I'm not so sure this time," Isabela replied, shaking her head. "She's doing it again, Leliana. Trying to be the hero."

"She _is_ the hero," Leliana corrected. "One of them anyway. She just can't see it because people aren't allowing her to. They're so cruel to her at times. I don't know how she deals with the pressure. I wouldn't be able to."

"She drinks," Isabela said, with a small chuckle. "As do I. That's the problem. No one wants a drunken hero. They want..." She exhaled in defeat. It felt terrible to say the truth aloud. "They want the Herald of Andraste. They want the Hero of Ferelden...They don't want the Champion of Kirkwall."

"And you?" Leliana asked softly.

Isabela smiled, as though the question was an easy one. "All I want is Hawke."

Leliana mirrored her smile, and they both sat together, falling into a moment's silence once more.

"Where do you think she's gone?" the Spymaster wondered then, glancing at the pictures on Lana's bedside table, picking up a family portrait. It was one of the few that Varric had managed to rescue from her Estate back in Kirkwall. Leliana stroked the laughing, black haired girl fondly. Lana looked so young here, not much older than twenty. It was how Leliana remembered her in Lothering. This was the Lana she had fallen in love with. She was so carefree back then. You could see it in her eyes...In her smile.

"Maybe to find Donnic?" Isabela suggested hopefully. "If I know Hawke, she's finding a way to end this war, and doing so with a complete lack of regard for her safety."

Leliana chuckled. "Sounds like her," she agreed. "If what you say is true, you should catch up with them both eventually. You're still leaving with Ellana and the others, no? They could use your help."

Isabela pondered the issue. She had originally only agreed to come because she couldn't bear to be apart from Hawke any longer. Now Lana was gone without her, without all of them. Did she really want to be found? Was she indeed planning on giving her life for this cause? As she asked herself the question, Isabela realised that she couldn't rightly refuse to go now, despite the change in circumstances. If Hawke was putting herself in danger on the other side of the world, again for selfless reasons, and at the feet of a tainted God no less, then there was no way Isabela would be able to sit back and wait patiently for her to come home. It wasn't in her nature. She wasn't a worrier. She was a doer. The Queen of The Eastern seas didn't wait for a storm to pass. She grabbed the helm and sailed straight into its eye.

"I'm going," the pirate said with a nod, "I can't stay here in hope of her returning. I have to go after her."

"I'm so glad to hear you say that," Leliana breathed in relief. "If I could go myself, I would."

"Can't you?" Isabela asked.

Leliana shook her head sadly. "I have to stay here. There is much to be done yet. Corypheus is on the move. I have to keep on top of things."

"You look like you could do with a break," Isabela replied. "Has anyone even asked how you've been lately?"

"That's the problem with living amongst heroes all your life," Leliana grinned, "No one gives a damn about how the little people are. I'm just a pawn in this war. Like I was during the Blight. Like I was working for The Divine. Like I am now in the Inquisition. No one's going to write songs or stories about me, Isabela. I am the Bard. I sing their names...I don't sing my own."

Isabela couldn't argue with her logic. "I don't think you give yourself enough credit, Leliana. Working in the shadows doesn't make you any less important. In fact it makes you more so. You pull the strings. You always have. It doesn't take a genius to know that. People here are terrified of you because you're powerful. You're almost as infamous as me these days."

"Careful," the Bard giggled, "That was nearly a compliment."

Isabela chucked. "You'd be lucky," she teased playfully, "But you're wrong on one thing. You will be remembered."

"How?" Leliana called after her doubtfully, watching her get up and walk towards the door.

Isabela looked back at the Spymaster and threw her a cheeky grin. "You're not the only storyteller here remember. Varric has a story for everyone."

Hearing Leliana's musical laugh behind her, Isabela smiled to herself as she left. She was glad to have made her giggle. It was actually touching to see how much the Spymaster cared for Hawke, she had to admit. There would always be a hint of rivalry there, but in the end, Leliana only ever meant well for them all. She looked out for her friends. She was loyal and kind when it mattered most. Feeling like she wasn't so alone in that moment, Isabela made her way along the balcony of the crowded tavern towards Varric who was sitting in the corner with Bianca, looking ready and raring to go.

"You know we're not leaving until morning, right?" Isabela teased, sitting down at his table.

"Here's the thing, Rivaini," Varric began, locking his hands together and leaning in closer like the businessman that he was. "There's only one thing that could have made Hawke react that way. Sunshine's in some kind of trouble. Leliana sent her to Cullen, and told Blondie Number Two (or Curly as he shall henceforth be known) to keep her here. I think...Maker, I think she's following Daisy's path."

Isabela froze. "I'm sure you don't just mean fixing cursed mirrors," she jested. In shock now, the cogs in her head kicked into overdrive. It was all starting to make some sense. The way Lana reacted. The way she tore the sleeve of Bethany's robe. The way Bethany responded like she'd been injured. The nobles afterwards had all been wondering what Lana saw on her sister's arm to make her leave in such a manner. The dread and the realisation hit the Admiral all at once.

"Maker's bloody balls," she whispered, eyes wide. "Oh, Bethany...what have you done, sweet thing?"

"My thoughts exactly," Varric continued, glad to see they were on the same page. "Now, Curly, I'm sure is going to be babysitting Sunshine until she gets back on the straight and narrow again. She's up shits creek without a paddle now, that's for sure. As an ex-Templar, he's qualified for the job...even though he's a bit of a self-important git"

"Here, here," Isabela chuckled.

"I'm sure dear, sweet Leliana set them up to make sure Sunshine didn't succumb to a blasted rage demon and murder us all in our beds," Varric shuddered.

"Here's hoping," Isabela shivered, inclining her head towards him in toast, before taking a sip of port from his goblet.

"As a result, the Inquisitor, bless her, has suggested that we get ready and leave tonight," Varric finally concluded. "Assuming that Hawke is on her way to meet the famous ladies man, Guardsman Donnic, we should be able to catch up with her before she 'Hawkes out' on us and singlehandedly takes down an Arch Demon or some shit."

Isabela sniggered. "What are we waiting for then? It doesn't take her long to find trouble," she said, getting to her feet and pulling the dwarf to his. "Grab that bottle of port and take it with us. Meet you at the gates once I get my stuff?"

"It's a plan. Oh, one more thing," Varric said, looking a little uncomfortable then. "The Inquisitor isn't just bringing us. Cole will be coming too."

"Who?" Isabela asked, confused.

"You've met him already," Varric reminded her. "He makes you forget and blah, blah, blah...What's the point. Anyway, he's not the only one coming for the adventure. The Qunari, Iron Bull, will be accompanying us too. As will the Vint. I like to call him Sparkles."

Isabela pursed her lips. "Great," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "Just what I need. A blasted Ox-Man."

"He's actually not bad company," Varric chuckled, "Once you get to know him."

"I assure he already knows me well enough," Isabela grinned, "I am the bane of the Qunari existence, remember."

The dwarf laughed. "True, and yes, he does. He knows all about you, the Tome of Koslun, your battle at sea, your torture, your mother and..." Varric's voice trailed off as he realised Isabela wasn't comfortable with the sudden direction this conversation had taken. "Never mind. Just...try to behave for the Ellana's sake. Don't steal his stuff. I'm sure you and Sparkles can handle him. We're on the same side now. The Inquisition needs all the help it can get."

"If you say so," the pirate relented, "Let's just get under way. I'm so sick of Skyhold and I've barely been here two days. Is it always this dull?"

"See you downstairs in five, Rivaini," Varric chuckled.

Picking up Bianca and the bottle of port, he began making his way down to the lower level. Isabela raced in the opposite direction to grab her things. She could feel that familiar tingle of excitement cursing through her veins at the thought of another adventure. Hawke had only a few hours on them, they could still catch up with her on time. Granted, Lana had taken a horse, and there were no more mounts to spare, but hopefully nightfall and the miles of snow would slow her down.

Leliana was gone when Isabela reached Lana's room again, but she had left gifts on the bed. Isabela reached down and picked up the small food parcel and a bulging coin purse, along with a brand new dagger bearing the mark of the Inquisition on the hilt. It looked almost identical to Isabela's old golden daggers, and was even sharper and lighter than they had been. There was also a note with it:

 _I had this dagger forged for you this morning when you told me you were staying to help. When Lana walked out of the Keep tonight I knew something was gravely wrong. I hope this helps in your quest to find her. Look for my ravens on your travels. I'll be watching you from afar._

 _Bring her back safe,_

 _Leliana_

 _She's such a sweetheart sometimes,_ the pirate smiled inwardly. She knew it was Leliana's own way of lending aid while her hands were tied, and it was greatly appreciated. Quickly, Isabela changed out of her clothes, relishing the feeling of wearing no pants again. She liked the breeze better then the restriction. She put on her usual get-up and grabbed her long blue coat, bundling it under her arm. Packing her bags, Isabela reached for the portrait of Lana that Leliana had been staring at earlier. She placed it back on the bedside cabinet, and then noticed another alongside it. It was of Bethany and Lana, arms around each other, looking closer than Isabela could ever remember them. Smiling, Isabela took the tiny picture and stowed it in her pack, along with the gifts Leliana have given her. She placed the dagger on her back and relinquished one of her old ones, tossing it onto the bed in rejection. The new dagger seemed to be powered with some kind of enchantment, Isabela noticed with surprise. Leliana really was going all out to keep her safe. It was touching.

Taking one last sweeping glance over the room to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything, Isabela suddenly realised she was without her bandana. _I definitely left it on the dresser this morning._ She went back in search for it, pulling open all the drawers in frustration when she noticed it wasn't where she had put it. After a few minutes, it suddenly hit her.

 _Hawke..._

Her heart clenched as she realised the woman must have taken it with her when she left. Isabela brought a hand to her chest and found it difficult to breathe then. She missed her so much already. Never before had she felt this powerless to defend her. They normally did these things together. They were sidekicks, weren't they? Suddenly the bells of the Keep began to chime outside, signalling the Inquisitor was ready to go. Quickly, Isabela pulled herself together. She took one of Lana's black shirts from the wardrobe and tore a piece of the fabric away then tied it around her head, holding back her hair in a makeshift bandana instead. She checked out her handiwork in the mirror. It would do. Grabbing her backpack again, this time Isabela didn't look back as she ran down the tavern stairs, out into the coldness of the night to greet the others before taking off together on their quest.

##

"So, Rivaini...Can I call you Rivaini?" Iron Bull asked, walking alongside her, casually resting his axe over his shoulder.

"Call me whatever you want, Qunari. But I can't promise I won't kill you for it," Isabela replied. She heard Varric chuckle behind her.

They were stepping through the knee-high snow, rounding a mountain peak to the west in order to start their journey into Orlais. The Inquisitor was leading the way, walking delicately through the snow like it was nothing, an advantage of the Elvhen race. _They must all be light as a feather,_ Isabela couldn't help but think. _The snow barely cracks beneath their feet._ Her own feet were soggy and wet, the melting ice having seeped in the loose seams of her boots. She was thankful however, that she had chosen her thigh-highs, and pitied Varric and his stumpy Dwarven legs. She glanced back at him struggling through the terrain. He was almost buried.

"I hear you've killed a lot of my people," Iron Bull continued conversationally, as though they were merely discussing the weather.

"Oh, really?" Dorian interjected, shining the light of his staff back on them through the darkness. "Perhaps you and I will get along just fine then, Queen of The Eastern Seas. You sound like my kind of woman."

"Aren't you on a strictly sausage diet, Vint?" Bull asked.

Isabela and the others burst out laughing. All apart from Cole, who just didn't seem to understand humour, bless his soul. The amount of jokes that they had been slinging at each other over the last few hours since leaving Skyhold and the kid had barely even let out a noise. Isabela didn't know what to make of him. She had gotten used to seeing him momentarily then forgetting him, only for him to reappear again. He seemed overjoyed each of the four times she had re-recognised him, as though he was afraid she would forget him forever.

Dorian took the joke in his stride, with a hearty chuckle. Clearly sparring with Bull was a regular occurrence for him. "Strictly speaking yes," he admitted with a wicked grin, "But for anyone who's lessened the world of one more of you giant fanatics, I might consider breaking the habit."

"Ooo," Isabela crooned, "You say such things, Sparkles. You're making me quiver."

"Mages tend to have that effect," Dorian joked, winking at her playfully. Isabela returned the favour. She was rather enjoying herself despite the bitter coldness of the night.

"I'll get you a collar, Saarebas, so you can be this pirate's bitch. I bet she likes it rough," Iron Bull teased.

"I like it every which way, "Isabela corrected, "Chains or no, I always manage to get on top."

"Maybe you should ride The Bull then," Dorian laughed, "I think he'd prove quite a challenge for you."

"Bestiality's not really my thing, sweetness," Isabela replied, getting fresh laughter from her companions. "Besides, I doubt he would let me spank his ass or swing on his horns, and it just doesn't sound like much fun if that's not involved."

"I'll let you swing on my other horn," Bull retorted, grabbing his crotch and shaking it at her in insult.

Isabela sniggered. "Tempting, but then I'd have to stare at your face every day after Hawke chops your head off and hangs it over the mantelpiece."

To her surprise, Iron Bull chortled along with everyone else. Isabela didn't like to admit it, but this Qunari seemed a little more at ease than any that she had met before, and well up for a laugh, even at his own expense. It was a nice turn of pace after the vicious beasts she had met in Kirkwall.

"When you're all done insulting each other," Ellana interrupted at the head of their group, "I think I see a cave in the distance. I say we hole up there until morning. I think there's a storm on the way."

Feeling the icy breeze become stronger then, Isabela shivered in her pirate coat and glanced up at the clouded sky, pulling her collar up around her neck. There was only a hint of moonlight, the rest having been obscured by the changing weather. She realised the Inquisitor had a point.

"You could be right," Isabela answered. "There's definitely a storm brewing."

"I say we camp," Varric called from the back of the party, "Any more snow and I'm going to drown in it."

Just as he said it, he lost his footing and sank another few inches into the mass of white. It was up to his neck now. Laughing, Isabela and Iron Bull grabbed a hand each and hauled him out. Varric shook himself dry and checked Bianca was still on his back.

"This is why my people don't live on the surface," he chuckled. "Let's head for the cave before you lose me. Being smothered by snow isn't the heroic death I had planned for myself."

They all followed the Inquisitor as she led them up the mountain and into the crevice at the top. Iron Bull found some dry logs deep in the back of the cave and piled them in the middle for Dorian to set alight. Nobody spoke much as they unloaded their luggage and unpacked their bed rolls. Once they were settled and had caught their breaths, Isabela pulled two skinned bits of game from the parcel Leliana had given her and stuck them on a spit, balancing them over the fire using two rocks on either side as leverage.

"Excellent," Bull said appreciatively, watching them cook. "I'm starving."

"You're always starving," Ellana teased him, "I think most of the money the Inquisition is donated goes on buying enough food for the rest of us in the tavern after Bull's had his fill."

The Qunari laughed. "What can I say? I'm a big boy," he replied. "One of these rabbits is like a bite to me."

"Oh great," Dorian groaned, "Does that mean we're going to have to listen to your stomach grumbling the entire night again? With The Maker as my witness, I will throttle you in your sleep one of these days."

"And I'll shove the hilt of my axe up your ass if you try, Vint," Bull growled, "Though you'd probably enjoy that."

Fresh laughter echoed in the cave, and soon their mouths were full of cooked rabbit. Isabela and Varric shared his bottle of port to wash it down, as the others drank from their own hip flasks. It wasn't long before they all felt sleepy and crawled into their bedrolls. Cole, who had been quiet most of the night so far, dragged his away from the rest and huddled in the corner on his own. He clearly liked his space, or maybe he was just used to being alone. It was no surprise after walking such a distance from Skyhold purely through heavy snow, that everyone fell asleep almost instantly, lulled into dream world by the soft crackling of the campfire. Everyone except Isabela that was.

The pirate lay with her eyes open, as the others snored around her, unable to rest. She couldn't get Hawke out of her head. As she listened to the storm howling wildly outside, she hoped Lana was safe, and that she had found shelter. As she lay awake with thoughts consumed of her love, a noise outside suddenly caught Isabela's attention. She raised her head off her thin pillow and stared towards the exit.

 _There it is again!_

Her heart began to pound. There was definitely something moving out there. It sounded different than the blasts of the storm. Isabela reached over and nudged Varric awake. He came around with a snort, and opened his eyes groggily.

"Whasamatter?" he mumbled, still half unconscious.

"Do you hear something?" Isabela whispered warily.

"Only Bull's stomach grumbling as usual."

"No, not that," Isabela replied seriously. "Varric...I don't think we're alone up here."

Instantly the dwarf came to, his eyes becoming wider and more alert. He paused straining his ears for the sound of something sinister. He and Isabela exchanged a worried glance, waiting...praying that they were wrong. Suddenly they both heard voices on the wind, a man commenting on the light of their campfire. It was then that the unmistakable reverberation of a marching army brought chills to their bones. Isabela was right. They were not alone. She and Varric both bounded out of their bedrolls at once, weapons in hand, and kicked the others awake frantically.

"Get up!" Isabela hissed, shaking Cole and surprised to find him already awake. Didn't he ever sleep? "Grab you knife, kid."

"I heard it too," Cole replied, wide-eyed. His knife was already in his hand and he was on his feet in a flash. His pale eyes bore into hers. "They have come, pirate lady...They have found us."


	16. Tales of the Sabrae Clan

"Varric! Varric!"

The snow-covered valley was covered in Red Templars. Isabela beat off the nearest one hard, with the hilt of her enchanted dagger and elbowed the offender to the ground, catching the only part of him that wasn't armoured. She backstabbed the next, so quick and agile that for a moment he thought she had disappeared, only to feel the pointy end of her blade piercing his spine, rendering him powerless. He dropped to the bloodstained snow in a heap, weighed down by his heavy armor, mouth overflowing with crimson.

"Varric!" Isabela called desperately again, wheezing to catch her breath in the cold damp air. She clutched her side, feeling the sharp stitch now aggravating her. Her arms felt like lead, heavy and limp. Her muscles were burning like a whore's hoo haa on a warm day. They had been fighting for over an hour. She couldn't see the dwarf anywhere. "Varrriiiicccc!"

The conflict was chaos. Flames of the many torches danced in the night, casting ominous shadows across the battlefield. The white gorge was filled with sounds of dying men and women, and of the seemingly endless war at hand. They had been completely surrounded. Their party was outnumbered five to one by the Red Templars. Isabela had never seen them up close before (unless you counted Knight Commander Meredith) but she had heard rumours of their existence. The reality was much worse. The news of red lyrium had travelled far and wide since Kirkwall. What seemed like a whole battalion of the corrupted soldiers had been following them the entire night without them realising. Isabela felt foolish. They had been hunted, and they didn't even know it. She realised the light from Dorian's staff must have given them away.

 _Not to mention our campfire._

It was only now that Isabela realised just how much danger the rest of Ferelden was in compared to Skyhold. There were so many wars at play here that she wasn't even sure which one they were currently taking part it. Maybe it didn't matter, or maybe this was just a simple free for all. In that moment, she almost found herself wishing she was back behind Skyhold Keep's walls, bored, but protected and safe like the others. This was the closest Isabela had ever been to real war. She was no stranger to fighting, of course, but this was different. In Kirkwall they had left before the larger scale of things took hold. And before that, when the Qunari had attacked she had barely even been there, taking off with the Tome of Koslun before it truly got started. Most of the wars she'd been in were at sea, and the game was much different at sea. Without her ship and her crew, Isabela was lost. But she knew how these things went. A whole battalion against six lightly armed people? They weren't the kind of odds she liked. As the drowning pirate glanced around and saw nothing but Templars, she knew they hadn't a hope in all holiness of coming out of this one alive.

Another three corrupted souls came stomping across the snow towards the Rivaini then, weapons raised, the Void burning in their eyes. Isabela ducked the first swing and spun away, under his arm, dropping a trap for them all then darting a few feet back to entice them forwards again. Two out of the three yelped in pain as their feet made contact with the metal embedded in the snow, clamping their legs all the way to the bone.

"Got you," the pirate mocked.

The lack of light was on Isabela's side. Any good Rogue knew how to capitalise on their environment. The third Templar kept coming however, undeterred by her plan. _Oh shit..._ He punched Isabela with his steel fist before she had time to react. She felt her daggers slip from her grasp. The Templar grabbed her by the throat, lifting her clean off the ground like she weighed nothing, with one giant, meaty hand.

Isabela gagged, and struggled against his fingers.

"Uff...Glrgle..."

The beast of a man slammed her against the nearby cliff to stop her wrestling, rendering her limp and dazed. Isabela grimaced and yelled out in agony as the rocks make contact with her head and body. She felt the warm trickle of blood running down her face and heard her shirt rip on the jagged edges.

"Time to die!" the Templar snarled in her face. He looked menacing in the dim firelight, his face only a foot from hers. She could see the corruption in his eyes, feel the red lyrium radiate off him onto her skin. Isabela's head went light. Her neck was crushing under the man's grasp now. Her golden neck brace, the one she always wore, was being wedged into her chest under the strain. She wouldn't be able hold on much longer. It was impossible. She couldn't break free no matter how hard she scratched, clawed and kicked him. Her swings just seemed to bounce off his heavy armor.

"Arghh...Curld...h...lp!"

"There's no one to help you now," the man jeered. "Say hello to The Maker for me!"

He grinned evilly at her, seeing she was turning blue, her windpipe giving way. Her legs began to go limp, along with her arms. It was of Hawke that Isabela thought then, as she stared up at the clouded night sky through tear-filled eyes, realising she was about to die.

All of a sudden, the Templar's eyes widened in shock. Isabela watched through her watery, bloodshot eyes as deep red liquid began to dribble from his mouth and down his chin. He released her unexpectedly, and she fell onto the snow in a bedraggled heap, landing awkwardly on her ankle as she did so. Retching and heaving, feeling the cold air return to her lungs, Isabela looked up to watch the giant bastard fall to his knees...and reveal tiny little Cole standing behind him, wide-eyed and fearsome, his dagger protruding from the Red Templar's back.

Stunned, Isabela couldn't find the words to respond. She was still on the verge of falling unconscious. Cole wasn't stopping to talk anyway it seemed. He immediately retrieved her daggers and threw her over his shoulder, effortlessly, betraying his young, thin frame. Isabela watched the battlefield upside down through her drowsiness, unable to see any of her other companions. _Varric,_ she thought to herself in agony. _Bianca's not going to do him any good in the darkness against such numbers._ As the pirate fought to stay awake for the sake of her friend, her eyes suddenly became heavier, working against her. _Always the way..._ They closed against her will, but not before Isabela saw a huge blast of green light appear in the sky.

##

"She looks in bad shape. Should we leave her?"

"She'll be fine. I can sense it."

"You saved her life, Cole, but would she have returned the favour? Maybe we should just go. Leave her a bottle of rum and she can find her own way back."

"We're not leaving her, Bull. This is not the time for jokes!"

"Sorry, Boss. I was just kidding. What I really meant was, how long are we planning on staying here? I doubt it will take long for Corypheus to realise you just killed his entire battalion of Templars with a blast of green light from your hand. He could be on our ass already."

"It's called Mark of the Rift," Ellana replied, "I only like using it as a last resort. It takes a lot out of me. But enough of this. We need to get Isabela conscious again and get back on the road. It's not safe here."

"I think _I_ know a way!" came Varric's voice.

Isabela opened her eyes groggily at the sound of a cork being popped. Through her blurry gaze she found Varric, standing in the cave entrance behind the others, holding a freshly opened bottle of wine.

"Give it," Isabela croaked hoarsely from her sickbed, making them all jump at her sudden consciousness.

"And Rivaini comes back to the land of the living!" the dwarf laughed approvingly. "The only potion you need is a stiff one at the end of the day. This is courtesy of one of our 'friends' outside."

The others chuckled and made way, scattering from Isabela to let Varric through with her 'medicine'.

"Ooo, Antivan," Isabela replied, after taking a hearty swig and examining the bottle, smacking her lips. "I love you, Varric."

The dwarf sniggered. "I think that's a combination of the wine and the ten health potions the Inquisitor force-fed you talking, Rivaini."

"As long as you didn't give me any," the pirate smiled, "Remember Hawke and the 'Beby' incident? That was the drunkest I've ever seen her. She was out of her tree!" They both laughed as the others looked on, unaware of the tale. Seeing their confusion, Isabela added: "I'll tell you about it sometime." She handed the bottle of wine back to Varric and heaved herself upright with her arms then. A fresh wave of nausea came over her and she clutched her forehead.

"Ugh, this feels a lot like the time when I drank for a week straight and woke up floating in Kirkwall bay, wearing nothing but my boots," she groaned, closing her eyes against the pain, feeling the newly healed cut along her temple.

"Oh shit, I forgot about that. Didn't Aveline have to fish you out with a net?" Varric laughed, "She never did tell Hawke, true to her word."

"That was before I met her," Isabela chuckled. "But Aveline kept the secret, I'll give her that... Even when I was acting like a bloody idiot towards Hawke."

"Maker, is it any wonder Kirkwall went to the dogs with you three running the show," Dorian chuckled. "I'm surprised it didn't burn down sooner!"

"It would have had my people got their way," Iron Bull intervened, "Maybe it all wouldn't have come down to a Mage-Templar war if they had."

"Yes, and maybe it would have become an Exalted March against the Qunari instead," Isabela replied roughly, "Maker, a girl can dream can't she?"

Bull simply laughed.

"Enough of this," Ellana interrupted, before the discussion got heated. "We need to get out of here! We're still quite a few miles from the nearest village. Isabela, can you walk?"

The Inquisitor got up and reached down, taking the pirate's outstretched hands and dragging her to her feet.

"Ugh," Isabela mumbled again, as the pounding in her head increased. She massaged her neck, feeling the obvious bruises. She couldn't wait to get to a mirror and check the damage. "Let's just get moving. I'll heal as we go."

"Great," Ellana said relieved. She patted the pirate on the back and they immediately began to pack up their things.

The six of them made their way out of the cave once they checked that the way was clear. The valley was full of bodies, scattered as far as the eye could see. Isabela was stunned that they managed to make it out alive. She thought she was a goner for sure. For the next few hours none of them spoke. They were exhausted. They hadn't slept since the night previous when they were back in Skyhold, and had just taken part in a gruelling battle that they were still feeling the effects of. Isabela massaged her side under her coat, through the rip in her shirt, feeling the strain after she had been slammed by the Red Templar who had almost taken her life. Remembering then how she had been saved, she glanced over at Cole.

The blonde boy was walking at the front beside Ellana, as though he was more comfortable around her than anyone else. Isabela couldn't quite figure him out. What was he? A Spirit? A Demon? She wasn't so good with such terms, but for all intensive purposes, she supposed he couldn't possibly be a demon. He had saved her, hadn't he? Still, Isabela grew more and more curious as to what his story was. Normally she didn't care about sob stories, but Cole just looked so dejected and distant. She made a mental note to engage him in conversation over a few mugs of ale when they finally reached a tavern. _I hope we don't have to wait too long,_ the pirate thought longingly. The bottle of wine, which Varric had taken off a Templar corpse, had been long since finished on their walk, and Isabela was starting to get withdrawal symptoms again. Also the pain of her injuries was starting to come back tenfold.

"How long do you think until the next watering hole?" she moaned, finally breaking the long, intense silence as they climbed. The mountain was getting steeper and steeper, but they were making good time despite the snowfall.

"Probably once we reach Orlais," the Inquisitor called back from the front. "There's not much use for a tavern out in these parts. The snow stops people from travelling this far. We may find a farmhouse to take us in though. Leliana informed me there was one not long from here. Old friends of hers."

Isabela sighed disappointedly, wiping the sweat from her brow.

"Do you have... anything to drink, Varric?" she asked breathlessly, nudging him beside her.

The dwarf chuckled. "Sorry, Rivaini. You drank me dry earlier. You do look a little pale though...I'll try to barter with someone once we get to a village."

"Thanks," Isabela wheezed, "I...I need to... sit down."

As she said the words, her knees collapsed beneath her and she hit the snow face first.

"Isabela!" Varric shouted. He knelt down beside her, and then called for the others in the distance. "Wait! Hold up!"

Seeing the pirate on the ground, the others ran back, none as fast as Ellana. The Inquisitor dropped to her knees beside her and flipped her over onto her back. The pirate's eyes were rolling in her head.

"Isabela? Isabela?" she called, tapping her cheek. She was barely conscious.

"She's freezing," Dorian said, touching the Rivaini's arm. "And she's still badly injured. We need to get shelter so as she can heal properly. I can try some magic but-"

"She won't last much longer like this. The snow's getting heavier," Cole observed in his soft, mystical voice. "I can feel her slipping away already."

"I know someone who lives nearby," Varric informed them. They all turned to him in surprise.

"What? I _do_ have friends outside the Inquisition, excuse me."

"Are they raving lunatics like Hawke ask well?" Dorian joked.

"You'll see," Varric promised. "I didn't want to mention it if I could help it. It's important that they remain secret and safe but, since Isabela's not going to make it...they live about half a mile south of here."

"Why haven't you mentioned this before?" the Inquisitor asked.

"Like I said, Herald, I wanted to keep my friend safe," he replied. "Considering we've just been followed by a battalion of Red Templars, wouldn't you have done the same?"

She couldn't fault his logic.

"Fine, we'll double time to this 'friend' of yours and see that Isabela gets some rest. By the Goddess, I wish we had a Halla," Ellana cursed, staring up at the continuously falling snow. "I'll be glad to see the back of these Frostbacks."

"Excellent!" the dwarf approved, rubbing his hands together. "Let's get moving."

"Good idea. It's bloody ball-freezing out here," Dorian shivered. "I doubt I could cast a fire from my staff now if I tried."

"At least we're saved the wickedness of your spells, Saarebas," Iron Bull teased him. "I'll take ball-freezing any day."

"Oh don't fret, Bull, I wouldn't waste the mana on you," Dorian joked.

"Can you walk, Isabela?" the Inquisitor asked, mimicking her concern from earlier in the day. Isabela was unresponsive.

I'll carry her," Bull said graciously, bending over and shifting her up across his shoulders. Isabela tried to fight with what little energy she had left, but it was no use. This was the second time in the space of a day she had been carried by someone, not least a bloody Qunari. _Oh balls, the embarrassment! What would my crew say if they saw me now._ She closed her eyes in resignation, as she dangled from the giant Ox's meaty shoulders, unable to face anything but his magnificent beefy ass.

"Not a word ...to anyone... about this...Varric," Isabela breathed grumpily to the dwarf, as they got on their way again. "I... mean it."

She heard him laughing in reply, and could imagine the cogs in his head working on another one of his stories.

##

"I was wondering when you'd come visit now that you're so close! It's a lot colder here than I'm used to! Would you like a cup of wine? I have...water! Or whiskey! I don't like it much, but it always reminds me of The Hanged Man with you, and Hawke and... Isabela! Oh, I do hope she'll be alright! Stay as long as you like! Do you think she will be? I always liked her! I...I'm babbling aren't I? I'm just so happy to see you!"

Varric was almost bundled over as Merrill closed the door behind them and flung herself down to hug him. Her tiny little shack in the mountains was surprisingly warm and comfy inside. Much better than that hovel she had lived in for so long in Kirkwall. Isabela had a feeling then that Varric had rescued her from it after a few years since they left, in order to keep her out of more trouble. She was quite naive. It was endearing, but also made her a bit of a liability at times.

"Hello, Kitten," Isabela breathed weakly, still dangling upside down as Bull carried her past. Merrill giggled at her over Varric's shoulder.

"I'm so happy to see you both!"

"Now, now, Daisy, you're making me blush!" Varric chuckled. "Not in front of the Inquisitor."

"You're the Inquisitor?" Merrill gushed, immediately relinquishing Varric and rushing over to shake hands with a bewildered Ellana.

"You're...Dalish?" she replied sceptically with a frown, taking in Merrill's overly elvish appearance and her tattoos.

"I am! Aneth ara!" Merrill replied happily. Then her face fell. "Or...I was. Keeper Marethari sent me away. I...disappointed her, you see."

"Keeper Marethari? I know the name. From the Sabrae Clan. Then you must know the Hero of Ferelden!" the Inquisitor said, stunned.

"I do!" Merrill said happily. Then her smile faded once more. Her every changing emotions almost made her look comical. "I mean, I did. We grew up together but Navarre was a hunter. I was the Keeper's second. I was so sorry to hear about Navarre's death. Varric wrote me a while back and told me when he was at Weisshaupt. It's such a loss."

Varric wheezed with laughter then. "Oh, Daisy, Daisy! Take a seat. I have some good news for you on that end."

"What do you mean?" Merrill asked, confused. "And where is Hawke? Varric, what's going on?"

The others stared at him likewise. Obviously the news of Navarre Mahariel's resurrection hadn't travelled fast. Isabela suspected Leliana was trying her best to keep it as quiet as possible, even from the Inquisition. The pirate watched from the single bunk bed Bull had placed her on as Varric ushered Merrill and the others around the table.

"Hawke is gone, Daisy," he told her. "We don't know where, but don't worry. We'll fine her. The Hero of Ferelden, however? Well, she's very much alive, or so Leliana believes. Allow me."

He cleared his throat and immediately set to work on pouring them a few mugs of whiskey, then began telling them all that he knew of the strange tale of the Warden Commander.

"So, she isn't dead?" the Inquisitor whispered in awe when he was finished. "But Cassandra went to Weisshaupt in search of her. She said she...Creators, I can't believe it!"

"Neither can I!" Merrill gushed, stricken with both sadness and elation. "By the Dread Wolf! I-I didn't think..."

"That woman sounds like a walking miracle," Dorian chuckled. "Even in Tevinter coming back from the dead is almost unthinkable."

"The last time I saw her," Merrill began, reminiscing, "Our clan mate Tamlen had just gone missing and Marethari was sending Navarre away to become a Grey Warden. This was at the beginning of the Blight. She _really_ didn't want to go!" The elf laughed a little, and then shuddered in fear. "She kicked up the biggest fuss! Navarre was rather scary when she got angry, and she was grieving over Tamlen too, Creators have pity on her. Her eyes used to glow bright blue when she lost control! Dormant mana in her blood. Her father was a mage, see, but she never actually got the gift. Navarre didn't like humans much after finding out about her family. She had her reasons."

"Wasn't her father Keeper before Marethari?" Ellana asked interestedly.

"Indeed, he was," Merrill nodded.

"His was a... _nasty_ death, wasn't it? The other clans still speak of it," the Inquisitor said, her voice full of sorrow.

"The Shemlen murdered Navarre's father, and drove her mother to abandon her out of grief not long after giving birth," Merrill elaborated. "But the Keeper made her go with the Grey Wardens nonetheless...I don't think poor Navarre ever forgave her for it."

Isabela made a mental note to tell all this to Hawke when she saw her again. _If I see her again,_ she thought miserably.

"I wouldn't go broadcasting her existence across Thedas, now mind you," Varric warned them all, "Corypheus is still after her. She's in more danger now than she was during the Blight."

"You don't say," Iron Bull grunted. "Especially seeing as our current quest seems to be taking us towards trouble with the Wardens."

"Whose balls do I have to fondle to get a drink around here?" Isabela interrupted from her sickbed, watching them knock back their whiskey and not offer her one.

They all laughed.

"Oops, sorry Rivaini...We're all out," Varric said making an awkward face in apology, holding up the empty bottle. He had forgotten to pour her one.

"What?" Isabela moaned, almost in tears. "No..."

"Here, you can have mine, Bela," Merrill said, picking up her mug and bringing it to her. "I still don't really like it much."

"Aw, Kitten!" Isabela gushed emotionally, as though she'd been given a million sovereigns and not just a tiny sip of alcohol. "Maker, I missed you!" She reached up a caressed the elf's little face before accepting the drink and tossing it down her throat.

"I missed you too," Merrill replied sincerely. "I just hop-"

"Stop!"

Everyone stared towards Cole, who had just jumped to his feet. It was the first he had spoken since arriving. He was staring out the window worriedly.

"What is it, kid?" Bull asked, getting to his feet as well.

The seven of them listened to the howling wind, as though hoping not to hear something sinister on it.

"Mages!" Ellana shrieked then, seeing a flash of purple lightening in the distance that definitely wasn't natural. "They've seen our footsteps. They must be hiding out in the mountains. We have to get out of here. We can't take them all on! I'm not strong enough to cast Mark of The Rift again so soon."

"There's no time!" Cole warned them all. "There are too many of them. Much too many, and the pirate lady is injured."

"I can smell her wounds from here," Dorian grimaced.

"How about this," Varric suggested, "All the non-mages hide. Dorian and Merrill, you hide in plain view. Act like you live here. The ultimate sleight of hand!"

"It looks like our only option," the Inquisitor said hurriedly. "Bull, the wardrobe in the back. Cole...well they won't see you anyway, will they? Varric, there's a chest in the corner. Get inside. Isabela, under the loose floorboards with me."

"I'm not getting into-"

"I'm not going under—"

"I never hide from a—"

"Now!" the Inquisitor ordered sternly, as all of them began to protest.

Like children scolded by their mother, they all moved to their positions immediately as the Inquisitor stamped her authority. Isabela frowned angrily, feeling rather cowardly and stupid as she was helped under the floorboards by Ellana. She lay flat on her back in the foundations, staring at the nether regions of the floor, seeing the dust, damp and mould growing there. _This is bloody disgusting._ The elf climbed down beside her and Dorian refitted the planks of wood over the top of them, making sure they didn't stand out.

"This is ridiculous," Isabela hissed to Ellana. "If Hawke were here, she'd never—"

"Well she isn't, is she?" the elf hissed back. "Just be quiet, Isabela. This was Varric's idea, not mine. I don't like hiding anymore than you do."

Chagrined, Isabela sighed angrily, side by side with her. After a minute or so, they began to hear voices drawing near. Isabela could feel her heart thumping treacherously in her chest. She was sure hers wasn't the only one out of control at this moment. Ellana lay beside her in the semi-darkness. The dust that had collected under the house was catching in their throats. Both Isabela and the Inquisitor were breathing heavily after climbing down underneath the floorboards as quickly as they could, and a result of the restricted air and dampness. Isabela couldn't help but feel that Varric's plan was a risky one. _Oh Kitten,_ she fretted. _She's not very good at these games._ If she got killed, it was their fault for coming here. She knew Varric had no choice though. _I would have died otherwise_. Small rays of light were shining through the cracks in the floor above and the pirate caught a glimpse of the worry on Merrill's ashen face. _Oh Merrill..._

They lay in silence, frozen and scared for their friend's lives, hoping and praying to the Gods, Elven or otherwise, that they wouldn't have to fight once more.


	17. A Wrench in the Plan

There was a knock at the door. Then suddenly another joined in. It was frantic almost, as if they were being chased. There seemed to be only two of them for now. Voices could be heard faintly above the raging snow storm outside. Isabela stared wide-eyed at the floorboards above her, waiting with baited, straining to hear who their visitors were.

"Doesn't seem to be anyone inside," a male voice could be heard saying gruffly over the howling wind. "Should we enter? We need shelter before those bastards catch up with us. They're not far behind!"

"No!" a woman's voice intervened reasonably, "Knock it again. They might just not be able to hear us over the storm. The last thing we need is more trouble."

"Does it matter?" the man asked angrily. "We still need shelter! We're entering either way. We don't have a choice!"

"Still, I'd prefer to do it announced," the woman replied firmly. "We don't want another fight on our hands!"

There was another knock, louder this time, though still barely audible over the blizzard. Isabela saw the light through the floorboards flicker as Dorian got to his feet and peeked out from behind Merrill's faded curtains. She watched helplessly as the mage glanced nervously at Merrill, who looked paler than usual. She was shaking like a leaf.

 _Poor Kitten! We shouldn't have put her in danger like this._

"Shall we open it?" Dorian whispered loudly for them all to hear. "They mean to come in either way."

"Do it!" hissed up the Inquisitor, making Isabela jump. "Better they are seemingly invited so as to avoid immediate confrontation."

"Everyone be ready for the shit-storm," Varric's amused voiced sounded from the chest he was hiding in. Isabela chuckled quietly. The dwarf was always there to break the tension.

"Immediate confrontation?" she muttered to the Inquisitor, emphasising the first word. "I like the sound of—"

An explosion interrupted her words. The entire cottage shuddered and through the floorboards, Isabela saw the front door being blasted off its hinges and hitting the bed over their heads, clattering down over their hiding place. She and Ellana fought the urge to cough as dust the rained down upon them from above. They both clutched their weapons, ready to fight. It seemed their visitors had at last ran out of patience.

"Who goes there?" Merrill demanded nervously, getting to her feet and quickly pulling Dorian to his, both their staves pointed at the unknowns. The whistling wind flooded the room and they could barely be heard by the others as they addressed their visitors. It seemed there was an ongoing argument at the door, each sussing the other out. Isabela cringed, waiting expectantly for the fireballs, thinking worriedly of Merrill who had never been much good in a fight.

 _Her aim was always bloody awful!_

But none came.

Gradually, Isabela began to get the gist of the conversation.

"...chasing us! We're not one of them," a woman was saying calmly, "Sorry about your door. Might we come in, my husband and I? We're currently without shelter. We live just over the hill but our home has been-"

"Oh, come on!" the man interrupted, dropping all formalities the lady with him was trying to pass. "They're Mages. They could be with the bunch we just escaped. I don't trust them! Let's kill them and be done with it!"

"We have nowhere else to go!" the woman argued with him, "We'll never outlast this storm."

"I've had enough of Mages to last a—"

"Rhys?"

There was a moment of silence.

Isabela and Ellana turned to each other and frowned questioningly, as a new voice entered the conversation. _Surely not?_

Then:

"Cole!?"

Their suspicions confirmed, the pirate and Inquisitor waited with baited breath for an inkling as to what was happening overhead, as the wind suddenly grew louder. After a minute or so, the front door was finally placed over the empty hinges, slightly drowning out the storm. Their visitors were inside.

"...can't believe it's really you!" the woman was saying graciously. It looked from Isabela's angle that she was hugging the kid. "Leliana didn't tell us you—"

"Leliana?" Dorian asked, "You know Leliana?"

"I do," the woman replied kindly, letting Cole go and allowing Rhys to shake his hand. "Leliana sent us a raven a few nights ago to watch out for the Hawke—"

BUMP!

Isabela sat up instinctively and head-butted the floorboards by accident.

"Argh, balls!" she cursed, holding her forehead, then her side as the Inquisitor nudged her in the ribs for making noise.

"Sshh!" Ellana admonished, holding her finger over her lips.

"Who's there?" the woman above them called, with the unmistakable sound of her sword being taken from its scabbard. "Take cover you lot. I just heard something!"

"Wait! Wait! Wait!" Merrill cried, rushing over to lift the floorboards. "It's just our other companions in hiding. Don't kill them! Don't kill them!"

With the help of Dorian she pulled up the planks of wood and Isabela took her helping hand, climbing out delicately with her injuries and dusting herself off, along with the Inquisitor who looked less than pleased that the pirate had given their location away so foolishly. Evidently she had wanted her presence to remain a secret from unknowns. Even if Cole knew them, the last thing they needed was more people knowing the Herald of Andraste was in the area. Many a coin was surely on her head.

"You're the friends Leliana knows who live close by then?" the Inquisitor asked conversationally, shivering with disgust as Isabela pulled a massive spider out of her hair. "Thanks."

"We are," the dark-haired woman answered, grinning uncertainly at the pirate, who winked at her flirtingly in greeting. "But let's fix the door properly before we speak. There are still rogue Mage factions in the area."

With a strength that defied her feminine frame, she readjusted the door and placed it properly over the frame, balancing it against the wind. The man called Rhys then used his magic to mend it, and the draft was instantly blocked out. The noise of the raging storm was dimmed, allowing them to speak freely without interruption. The woman turned to them then, as the others began to pile out of their hiding places. She seemed unsurprised to find that there were more of them, evidently understanding they were the Inquisition, and friends of Hawke.

"My name is Ser Evangeline. I used to serve in the White Spire before it was annulled. Rhys and I both resided there, and...Well, I guess that's how we know Cole, in a matter of speaking."

"I can't believe it's really you," Cole gushed, looking more emotional than Isabela had ever seen him. He seemed a little reluctant to get to close to them again though, as if they knew too much about him. Or was he afraid that they would be wary of him? "I stayed away as long as I could, Rhys, but in the end you came to me."

"By luck and grace," Rhys replied, "It's not the first time you've helped us, Cole. If those Mages had had their way, Evangeline and I would have been burnt along with our home. Libertarians, Loyalists..." He snorted in derision. "It means nothing to them anymore since the day the Lord Seeker was killed and the Circles broke free. I fear we did more damage the day of that last Conclave than good. I'm surprised Leliana managed to keep us safe for this long."

"Sister Leliana helped us out of a tight spot more than once, before The Divine's death. We owe her," Evangeline continued. "We've kept in touch since then, but I'm afraid her raven bringing news of the passing Hawke gave our location away. We've just escaped the horde of angry Mages that followed."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Isabela interrupted, interested in what they had to say but desperate for news of her love. "Forget all that for the moment, sweet thing. You said you've seen Hawke!?"

"Indeed," Ser Evangeline nodded, "She passed this way yesterday. Leliana told us to keep an eye out for her. She was injured. She told us she had just narrowly outrun a pack of Red Templars."

"Injured? How...Was so ok?" Isabela asked, worried, yet wary of the question all the same. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

"She was...impatient," Rhys said instead, looking to Evangeline for confirmation that this was indeed how to describe Hawke's manner. The Templar nodded in agreement. "It was a just a flesh wound. Nothing that my healing magic couldn't fix in a heartbeat. But she was frustrated. She didn't seem happy about having to stop, wanting to get as far away from Skyhold as soon as possible."

Isabela's heart sank. "I don't suppose she said where she was going?"

"She wouldn't tell us, but Leliana had an inkling that she was heading to the Western Approach. Judging by the route she took when she left us, that's where I'd place my coin," Rhys said.

Isabela sighed, and slumped at the dining table. As Rhys filled in the others on events and caught up with Cole, Ser Evangeline sat down across from Isabela, seeing she looked sad.

"You are Isabela, I take it?" Evangeline asked softly. "The pirate?"

Isabela looked up, meeting the pretty woman's brown eyes. They reminded her of Hawke's. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach, a knot of longing for her lost love.

"Good guess," Isabela replied with a smirk. "What gave me away?"

"Oh, just your body language," Evangeline smiled, "And Hawke mentioned your description in passing. I have something for you. She gave me it in hope that I would encounter you before you left Ferelden."

Isabela straightened up in surprise. Evangeline adjusted her scratched Templar plating and pulled from under it, a folded letter, stamped with a burgundy wax seal. Elated, Isabela grabbed it from her and tore it open excitedly. Hawke hadn't forgotten her after all. Her heart warmed in recognising Lana's familiar, slanted handwriting.

 _Bela,_

 _First let me say I'm sorry for leaving, but this is something I have to do. I'll be gone long before you read this, but I know you'll be following. I just hope Evangeline crosses your path to deliver this message before you go any further._

 _Go back, Isabela. Go back to Skyhold. I don't want anything to happen to you because of me. This is something I need to do alone, and I may not come back from it. If I do, it will be the last thing I ever put before you, and our relationship. If I don't...then I need you to do something for me._

 _Bethany is in danger, more than I think she realises. She's a sweet girl, but she is heart scared of Corypheus, and the connection he had with our father. I'm afraid she's done something terrible, and you're the last person who can help her. Her anger with me is rooted too deeply right now, and fuelling a rage demon. I saw it in her eyes during dinner at the Keep. Don't let her succumb to Blood Magic, I'm begging you. It's never the answer, and I'm sure my father would tell her that if he could._

 _You're the only person Bethany will listen to now, Bela. The closer I am to her, the closer she is to harm. Please, go back to Skyhold and protect her from herself. Send word through Leliana's ravens to keep me informed of her status. I know Leliana will have placed her under Cullen or Cassandra's care by now, but I don't trust either of them. They will kill her if she becomes a threat. I trust you, and only you._

 _Turn back, Isabela. Turn back now and I promise, should I survive this quest with Donnic, that I will meet you back at Skyhold and never leave you again._

 _I love you, as you damn well know. Don't you dare forget it!_

 _Just trust me,_

 _Hawke_

 _Ps. Varric (pass him the letter please)_

Isabela passed it to the dwarf and he began to read.

 _I know Isabela will not give up searching for me, but I'm begging you to reason with her and send her back to Skyhold. I'd send you back too if I could but I know the Inquisition needs you. Please Varric, make her see sense. Don't let her come._

Isabela couldn't help but feel angry, as Varric reached the end of the letter and stared up at her. The others had stopped talking now, and stood watching the scene. _She means to die,_ Isabela couldn't help but tell herself over and over. _She means to give her life for this. But I can't let her!_

"Rivaini..."

"Don't you dare tell me to go back, Varric," Isabela chuckled, shaking her head, trying to shake it off like it was a joke. If she didn't laugh she would probably cry, and how embarrassing would that be! "Don't even try it. I'm going with you. I'm going to find Hawke."

She took the letter back from him and sat staring at it, unmoving, feeling Evangeline watching her along with the dwarf. Her composure was going to break soon. She could feel it. And the last thing she wanted to do was break down in front of them all. _Maker, that would be the end of my reputation as we know it._ But her strong resolve was rapidly crumbling, and no amount of joke in her tone could mask how she was breaking inside at the thought of Hawke leaving her forever.

"She was adamant you not come," Evangeline said softly and tactfully, obviously having had an idea of what the letter contained. "I'm sorry. I know that's hard to hear, but maybe you should listen to her."

"Oh, please!" Isabela sniggered, waving her off and smiling at them all. "It's just Hawke acting the hero again. You can't take her seriously."

"Rivaini, you _are_ still injured."

Suddenly her eyes began to fill against her will as she realised Varric's expression was resolute. He wasn't going to take her. The Inquisitor too looked to be on Hawke's side, staring down at Isabela's still bleeding injuries pointedly.

"Rhys said he had healing magic," Isabela challenged, staring at the mage expectantly. "You can cure me right?"

"I could," he agreed, "But I won't. I promised Hawke I wouldn't."

"Why? You owe her no allegiance," Isabela snapped, gradually getting angrier. "Come on! Just wave your staff and let me travel with this lot to save my woman. I'll make it worth your while. I have gold. A lot of it!"

"Sorry," he replied simply, "But I once, not long ago, I had to watch Evangeline die. I can't explain to you the pain I endured in that moment before my mother brought her back. Hawke doesn't want you to see that. She doesn't want you to see her fall, if she so should, and I have to stand by her wishes."

"But this is bullshit!" Isabela spat venomously, seeing they were all ganging up on her (and not in the way she liked). There was no way she could travel with them now, but she wasn't going to give up that easily. Before they could beat her down with reasons whys she was to stay, Isabela slammed her hand down onto the table in a rage.

"I'm going!" she replied fiercely, amber eyes stinging them all, "Don't think you can stop me."

"Isabela," Merrill whimpered frightened, "Hawke said—"

"I don't give a damn what Hawke said, Kitten," Isabela interrupted. "I'm going. You were right," she said hoarsely to the Inquisitor. "She's meeting up with Donnic and taking on the Wardens. It's bloody suicide."

"Well, now we know we're on the right track," the Inquisitor said, "She might not be far away if we leave now! But we'll never catch up with her with your injuries, Isabela. You must stay here, and make your way back to Skyhold when you are able."

"Let's get moving," Varric said hurriedly, ushering the others to collect their things. "We could still catch up with her before she reaches Donnic. This is one fight they can't handle alone."

"Let me get my things," Isabela said. The entire room fell silent. It was awkward. They all turned to look at her. "I'm going!" she said again, as adamant as before.

"Rivaini..."

"No, Varric," Isabela shook her head. Her amber eyes were filling with tears now and she swallowed hard, trying to find her words. Suddenly, with such bad timing, her wounds stung painfully and she collapsed onto the bunk, her pack falling from her hand as a sharp agonising stab consumed her entire body. "I..."

Tactfully, the others resumed packing up their things, preparing to set off, leaving Varric to kneel down in front of her.

"Isabela," he said, touching her arm, seeing she was finally defeated, more by her body than the number of challengers she faced. _He's using my actual name,_ Isabela couldn't help but think. _He must be serious._

"Hawke is going somewhere I can't follow again," Isabela sighed regretfully. "Maker, I can't help but hate and love that woman, Varric. She drives me insane, in a good way...But times like this I can't help but want to throttle her."

The dwarf chuckled, and patted her hand, still crouched in front of her.

"I'll do my best to bring her back," he said, "but you know Hawke..."

"I do," the pirate said, managing a small smile. "She's a bloody menace...I...Don't let her throw her life away for this, Varric, promise me. She's a sucker for wanting to have the last word."

"Rivai—"

"Promise me," Isabela interrupted him, as he started to plead with her once more. She knew his words would be meaningless. She knew there was no way he could be responsible for anyone else but himself, and she hated asking this of him. There was no way that Hawke could be saved if she was intent on giving her life for a cause. But Isabela needed to hear the words all the same. A small hope was better than none at all.

Varric, realising this, sighed in defeat. "I promise," he said, bowing his head respectfully. "I'll bring her back."

Isabela nodded, knowing it was a assurance he couldn't keep but finding comfort in it anyway.

"You're a good friend, Varric."

"And now I'm an even better one." He grinned and produced a bottle on Rivaini Port that he had probably just found in Merrill's chest where he had been hiding. "I was going to take this with me, but...your need is greater than mine I suppose."

Isabela laughed and took the bottle, beginning to inspect it. "I know you stole this from Merrill, but I doubt she'll even notice it's missing. Thanks, Varric."

"You're doing her a favour," Varric chuckled. "Daisy wilts under the influence of alcohol."

Isabela slipped it into her bag, remembering how the little elf couldn't hold her liquor. Varric got to his feet finally, bringing their conversation to a close.

"Well...I'd better get going," he said awkwardly, not wanting to leave her any more than she wanted to be left behind. He cocked Bianca and placed her on his back, then grabbed his bag.

"Take care of yourself, Varric," Isabela said sincerely, "I mean it. And kick Hawke in the shins for me when you finally catch up with her. This isn't over by a long stretch."

"Oh, I imagine you have something planned for her when she returns," Varric laughed.

"I'm going to murder her with my own two hands. She knows I hate being left behind," Isabela grinned. "Let her know that when you see her, won't you?"

Varric chuckled. "Will do, Rivaini. Take care of yourself. And Sunshine. I think Hawke's right. I think demons could be at work here. We can't have Skyhold falling to one. Protect her."

"I will," Isabela said miserably, "I'll find a way..."

The dwarf squeezed her shoulder supportively then followed the others out the door, leaving Isabela with Evangeline, Rhys and Merrill. She felt them all staring at her and sighed, wishing she was somewhere else...Wishing she was with Hawke.

"Would you like some tea?" Merrill asked kindly, "Or I can make some food if you like. I'll check the larder."

"No thanks, Kitten," Isabela replied sadly. She lay back on the bed she was perched on and exhaled loudly, staring up at nothing in particular. She was so angry with Hawke's letter, but she couldn't fault the logic of the others for leaving her behind.

 _Blasted Templars!_ She cursed, touching her injuries and ruing how they happened. _That fool Rhys could have just healed me and let me go with Varric. Bastard! As if I care about some soppy story about his almost dead wife. Why should that be a reason for me to be left behind...Evangeline is fine though. I wouldn't mind giving her a bit of mouth to mouth..._

And, knowing it would annoy Hawke more than anything in that moment (jealous as she was), Isabela closed her eyes and rolled over to sleep, filling her head with dirty scenarios involving Ser Evangeline without her armor on, and doing unspeakable things in her head.


	18. Truth and Lies

**_Hello all! Sorry for the long, long wait for this chapter! I have been working on original writing for a competition and would be grateful if you could check it out on Inkitt. com. It's called The Ryland Spitfire, based off The Cousland Spitfire that I had previously uploaded on this site. Download a free copy and leave a review. I need some support! :P Anyways, hope you all enjoy this latest chapter. I promise I won't make you wait as long for the next one!_**

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It took Isabela longer than expected to travel back to Skyhold, her injury having slowed her down to the point of walking. A thin layer of sweat was shining across her forehead, which she brushed away with the back of her hand. Her heart was dragging by her feet as she felt, not for the first time, that she had dropped even lower on the list of Hawke's priorities. She hadn't forgiven her for forcing the others to abandon her. She hated being left out of the action. Despite Merrill's best attempts at healing magic, Isabela's wounds were still tender and threatening to split. She would need Bethany to take a look and fix her up when she finally got back. She was sick and tired of the sight of snow, and longed for the Inquisition tavern to put her feet up and relax with a hot whiskey or two.

A bird squawked loudly overhead, and Isabela looked up, shielding her eyes against the early morning sun reflecting off the snow, and thinking of Leliana. Surely the Spymaster knew what had happened by now, and was expecting her return. Sure enough, when the gates of Skyhold loomed in the distance, a faint glint of red hair could be seen poking out from under a purple hood, as Leliana stood with her arms folded, leaning against the stone walls of the keep. She was looking rather sombre.

"You look terrible," the Spymaster greeted the pirate.

Isabela glared at her. She wasn't much in the mood right now, and felt like she was about to collapse. Suddenly droplets of rain began to fall.

"Nice to see you too, Inquisition."

Leliana straightened up off the wall and led the way into the keep, not even bothering to help her with her things despite her obvious struggles. "We have work to do," she said coldly.

"To the Void with that!" Isabela replied breathlessly, "I'm going for a drink and a hot bath. I'm a mess!"

"There's no time!" Leliana scolded.

"What's up your ass? You don't seem very happy to see me," Isabela replied, a little angry and confused at the Spymaster's sudden coldness in comparison to the nice, caring woman she had been a few days previous.

Leliana stopped walking then. Isabela watched her head drop and heard her say, "You were supposed to bring her back..."

The pirate blanched. She hadn't realised this would be the reason for Leliana's anger. "I tried," she said sadly, feeling tears sting her amber eyes as she looked out into the distance, chagrined at being accused of otherwise. "I failed. I shouldn't have to explain myself to you."

"I know," Leliana replied, her back still to her. "I just felt a lot better knowing you were out there looking for her...someone who cared for her as much as I do, but you got yourself hurt before you'd even left Ferelden. You were slowing the others down."

Isabela didn't much like hearing this from someone who still held a flame for her love, but she understood all the same. "I got injured, Leliana. That's life. Balls, don't you think I'd rather be anywhere else than here?"

"I know," Leliana repeated, "and I'm sorry." She finally turned to face her and Isabela noticed she wasn't the only one with tears in her eyes. "I know Hawke told you to return to help Bethany, but you took longer than expected, and I'm afraid it's too late."

"What! What do you mean too late?" Isabela demanded, her blood running cold.

"She's..." Leliana seemed to have difficulty saying what was on her mind. Her tears finally overflowed, and streamed down her face. "She's succumbed to a demon, Isabela. It's not just dabbling in blood magic anymore...Bethany is possessed."

Isabela felt as though she had been punched in the gut. Winded, she dropped her rucksack the ground and lowered herself onto a nearby fence, needing support. Combined with her current injuries and weariness of travel, she simply couldn't stay on her feet any longer.

"When did she go over to the other side completely?" the pirate croaked, unable to bring herself to watch Leliana's tears. The Spymaster always looked so vulnerable when she cried. Isabela wasn't comfortable around it.

"This morning. A few days ago I sent word of her worsening condition to Rhys and Evangeline, not long after you left Skyhold, hearing from my spies that Hawke had taken refuge in their cabin. I was hoping to persuade Lana to return, to stop her from going after Corypheus, but Rhys wrote back saying that she'd already left for The Western Approach by the time my letter arrived. Then I realised this was probably a good thing, as Lana was contributing to the Fear Demon that Bethany had been conversing with."

"Contributing how?" Isabela asked. "I don't understand. Why would Hawke be adding to Bethany's fear? She's always protected her."

"Bethany has already faced Corypheus once with Lana, and he wasn't as dead as they thought," Leliana informed her. "She has always believed in Lana, but even _she_ failed against him, and Bethany soon lost faith in her sister. Now Bethany believes blood magic has to be used to contain Corypheus again, like her father had done before, but she couldn't cast the spells well enough. She never was a Blood Mage." Leliana sighed and shook her head, lamenting the fact the Bethany had put her faith in such things now. "They disgusted her, or so she used to tell me. The demon must have heard her whispering to the others in the Fade for help with her spells, and it's been feeding off her fear ever since. Now...Now it has found her. She's fallen under its control."

Isabela clutched the fence with her hands, fighting to stay strong. Something about this whole thing stank, she could smell it. There was something Leliana still wasn't telling her. "So Hawke doesn't know she's in danger and I'm guessing your friends ended up at Merrill's cabin on your orders."The pirate finally got the courage to look into Leliana's swimming blue eyes again. There, she began to see the truth at last. "It wasn't just mere coincidence that Rhys and Evangeline knew how to find us, was it?" Isabela continued. "You knew Varric would have to take us there after my injury, and you sent them to us."

Leliana nodded, though not proudly.

"My ravens gave away their location," the Spymaster said, "I got word to them through my spies of the pending attack and they escaped with the perfect cover, acting as lost travellers being chased by apostates when they called on Merrill's home. I knew the elf would invite them in kindly after that, and that I'd be able to pass a message onto you."

"Me?"

Isabela shook her head in disbelief, as though truly seeing Leliana clearly for the first time. Until then she'd only had an idea as to what the woman could do, but now she realised that the entire world was Leliana's personal chessboard. They were all pawns in her game, playing along to the Bard's rhythm. Who knows what else she had manipulated?

"Just tell me one thing," Isabela said then, gradually piecing together the puzzles, the conclusion sticking uncomfortably in her throat. Her amber eyes met Leliana's blue ones again, the truth already registering on the latter's face. "That letter...Was it really from Hawke...or was it you?"

The Spymaster turned away, crossing her hands behind her back and staring up into the peaks of the Frostbacks. Her silence spoke a thousand words.

Isabela snorted in disbelief, shaking her head.

"I did what was necessary," Leliana replied, her cold demeanour returning. "You would have slowed the others down from finding Lana, and Bethany needed someone else to come back and protect her, but I knew you'd never return unless you heard it from anyone other than Hawke...so I forged a letter from her, begging you to return. I'm sorry."

Furious beyond belief, Isabela got to her feet then. She was shaking with anger, livid at being tricked to come back to Skyhold when Hawke needed her out there. It was all a ploy, and she had fallen for it, hook, line and sinker.

"Hawke had no idea I was even following her, did she?" Isabela demanded through gritted teeth, glaring at the back of Leliana and desperately wanting to cave her skull in.

"No," she heard the Bard reply from below her hood. "She doesn't know. I sent you to help her, and when I realised you were hindering the rescue efforts I made you return. Bethany needs your help now instead, Isabela. Whatever hatred you are feeling towards me right now, I suggest you bury it. I did what had to be done, for the good of Lana and her sister."

"And what about me!?" Isabela yelled, her temper finally getting the better of her. "What about what I needed? You knew how much I wanted to find Hawke before she sacrificed herself for this war! You knew that and you manipulated me!"

Leliana finally turned back to her. Her face was impassive. "I told you before that I'm just a pawn, Isabela. The truth is we both are. My needs and yours do not matter in this war. You have no choice but to follow this new plan. Hawke is out of your reach now."

Isabela's amber eyes flashed with murder. With lightening quick reflexes she grabbed the front of Leliana's armour and slammed her against the wall of a nearby building. The Spymaster slipped out of her grasp almost instantly and ducked under her arm, and both of them began to brawl in the middle of Skyhold. Their onlookers could barely keep up, watching in shock and awe as the two woman cancelled out each other's moves with undeniable speed and precision; an attempted stab, a dagger dropped on the ground, a trip that turned into an evasive manoeuvre, a kick that was blocked, a punch that was dodged...until finally, Isabela found herself lying flat on her back, with Leliana's hand on her throat, pinning her there.

"Stop this!" the Spymaster demanded, breathless after their scuffle. "You're injured, Isabela. I don't want to hurt you."

She released her and stood up, turning her back on her and beginning to walk away. Isabela jumped to her feet and scrambled after her. She scooped her discarded dagger up into her hand using her foot, the tripped the Bard with a sweeping kick, pummelling her on the head with the hilt. Leliana landed on her back this time, and before she could move, Isabela had rested her blade on her throat.

"I've never lost a duel," Isabela snarled, hovering her. "I'm not about to start."

"Then kill me," Leliana goaded tearfully, feeling the blade cut into her skin, leaving a thin slice across her throat. "Do it, Isabela" she begged. "I deserve it..."

Isabela's sword arm began to shake then as she hesitated, staring down into the face of someone she had once called a friend and questioning whether or not to kill her. Suddenly, before she could make up her mind, she was blattered over by a human battering ram and pinned to the soaking wet grass. The blade fell from her hand as Cassandra Pentaghast flattened her to the ground.

"Leliana, are you alright?" she asked, as Josephine reached out a hand and helped her to her feet. The rain was pouring down harder than before now.

"I'm fine," the Spymaster replied, dusting herself off. "Let her go, Cassandra."

"She just tried to kill you!" the woman exclaimed.

"Not without reason," Leliana said sadly, "She's badly injured. Please, let her go."

"I'm taking her to a cell," Cassandra informed her. "She can be released when she calms down. None of us can trust her. She's a pirate."

"Cassandra..." Leliana said regretfully. Clearly this wasn't what she wanted.

Isabela fought against the rough hands of the Nevarran warrior, as she round her own then clad in iron. She was hauled into a sitting position by Cassandra. Feeling betrayed and foolish for having believed Hawke's letter to be true, Isabela brought a hand to her face, seeing blood on her fingers and realising one of Leliana's punches had cut her eyebrow open. The Spymaster was sporting the early signs of a black eye, and her lip was burst. The thin slice across her throat was leaking a little blood. Leliana reached out a hand then, offering to help the pirate to her feet.

"I'll escort you to the dungeons. You won't be there for long, I promise," Leliana said, her voice full of pain.

"It's a bit late for playing nice," Isabela replied ignoring it, remaining seated on the wet grass as the rain poured down upon them both. She stared down at the chains on her wrists, wondering how it had come to this.

"I know what you must think of me now, but—"

"No, you don't," Isabela interrupted spitefully, glaring up at her then. "You had no bloody right to do any of this, Leliana."

"I made it my right," Leliana countered, "It is my job as Spymaster. Lana will be saved by the Inquisitor now, and Bethany will be saved by you. Your injury and Bethany's possession set them in motion. That is how events have transpired."

"They transpired that way because you bloody manipulated them!" Isabela reminded her. "Why me? Why am I chosen to help Bethany? Andraste's tits, you're closer to her than I am. What do I know about blasted demons?"

"Not much, I imagine," Leliana admitted, "But you know a lot about pirate artefacts."

Confused, Isabela looked up at her, taken aback by the sudden turn in the conversation. "What do you mean?"

"What do you know about a man called Lachlan Poole?" Leliana asked interestedly. Clearly this was the real reason why Isabela had been tricked into returning to Skyhold, but she wasn't feeling in a rather sharing mood at the minute.

"Nothing, sweetness," Isabela sneered, "Not a damn thing."

"Fine, be like that," Leliana shrugged, seeing it was an obvious lie. "But I believe he and Bethany are connected somehow by an artefact that I found in her room, and I believe you know how it came into her hands. There's no way Bethany could have gotten hold of it herself. It's got all the markings of piracy."

"What's in it for me?" Isabela asked coldly, "I'm through helping you for free. We're not friends anymore, Leliana, not after this. Friends trust each other...Friends don't stab the other in the back."

The Spymaster seemed hurt by her words. "Look, Bela...I'm so sorry for what I did but—"

"Save it," Isabela spat venomously.

"You'll understand eventually," the Spymaster replied. "Until then, I guess a simple apology is not going to be enough."

"You guessed right," the Rivaini snarled. "Mark my words, if Hawke dies out there, I'm holding you personally responsible. Next time, I won't hesitate to kill you."

Sister Leliana sighed and turned to walk away.

"You've changed, Leliana," Isabela called after her, as Cassandra pulled her to her feet, and directed her in the direction of Skyhold's underground cells. "No wonder the Hero of Ferelden doesn't want you anymore..."

Leliana paused at her final words, feeling their effect, then began walking again, taking the steps up towards the keep and leaving Isabela to be dragged away to the brig.

* * *

Isabela had been in quite a few cells in her life, but none were as depressing as this one. She could tell they hadn't been upgraded since the Inquisition had taken over Skyhold, but the rusted iron bars still held their strength. They had a greeny glow about them, and the air was thick and damp. The Rivaini's tongue was dry, and her entire body ached as she lay beside the bars, leaning on them for support as the Inquisition's Spymaster continued to question her. They'd been at it for hours.

"I know you're planning some sort of coup in the east," Leliana revealed, "My spies caught up with your ship, The Eider's Cry, and your crew were very talkative."

Isabela yawned pointedly. She knew her crew would never give her plans up. This was all a ploy on Leliana's part to get her to talk. How Leliana knew about her plans to take over Lachlan's ships though troubled Isabela. Leliana must have gotten her information from a different source, an untrustworthy one...and she had a feeling she knew who.

"Tell me," the pirate began, taking great joy in toying with her, "Is this how the Inquisition treats all of their guests? I expected more satin sheets and fine cheeses."

Leliana stood with her arms folded, not amused. "I didn't want to put you in here," she reminded her. "This is the last thing I wanted to happen."

"Hawke's going to kill you for this," Isabela threatened. "Do you really think she would agree to me being arrested? Or the Inquisitor for that matter? And Maker, I can't wait to see what Varric will have to say. You've fooled us all into thinking you were this sweet, charming woman and really...your just a cold blooded bitch."

Leliana remained silent.

Isabela smiled, feeling satisfied, knowing her words had hit their mark.

"I'm not telling you anything, _sweetness_ ," she continued, "You're nothing but a rotten bureaucrat now, and I don't have time for it. What in The Maker's saggy left ball sack happened to you?"

Leliana's head dropped. "I just want to save Bethany," she said in a small voice.

"You put me in the brig!" Isabela shouted, "Maker, you've turned into a right old Aveline in a few short days."

"I'm drowning, Isabela!" Leliana yelled back. She leaned against the bars of the cell with her hands, head bowed, and Isabela could see how beaten down the Spymaster really was.

"Drowning in what?" the Rivaini asked.

"In bodies," Leliana whispered weakly, "I'm sending my spies to their deaths on a daily basis, all the while making little progress against Corypheus. I've lost Navarre. I've lost Justinia. I've lost Hawke. I can't lose Bethany...I can't keep losing people." She raised her head and met Isabela's amber eyes in the semi-darkness of the dungeon. "I'll do anything to save Bethany from this demon, even if that means leaving you in this cell until I get my answers, Isabela."

"Bullshit! Get me out of here," Isabela pled, "I need healing magic. This isn't you! Since when were you this merciless? This ruthless?"

"I...Maybe you're right," Leliana hesitated, talking more to herself now, as though realising Isabela's words were finally true. "This isn't right."

"No shit! Then let me _out!_ " Isabela demanded. "This is the only way I'll help you."

"Yes, yes I'll let you out...Just a moment..."

To Isabela's amazement, Leliana gave in. She pulled the long golden key from her pocket and slipped it into the lock. Isabela watched as she turned it to the left and there was a magnificent _click!_ The cell door sprung open.

"I'm truly sorry for all this," Leliana said regretfully, standing still in the open doorway as though expecting Isabela to hit her again and almost wanting her to. "I don't know what I was thinking...You were probably right about Navarre..."

Isabela felt pity on the woman despite her anger. She had known bringing up Navarre would hurt Leliana, and had meant to cause her pain that mimicked her own. But seeing her now, she regretted her words before. Isabela wasn't ready to accept her apology just yet though, or offer one of her own.

"I'm not interested in your sorrys, Leliana. If Navarre won't listen to them, then I certainly won't. Now get me a bloody health potion," the Rivaini demanded, dragging herself painfully to her feet using the bars of her cell as she was that weak. "And then take me to Bethany...It's time I finally see what she has become with my own eyes."


	19. Out of Depth and Demons

**_A/N: I know I've kept you all waiting for updates so here are two chapters at once to hold you over until the next one. Thanks for the reviews. Hope you enjoy._**

* * *

Bethany Hawke's skin was a pale, sickly grey, dangling from her once round and happy face as though already rotted and dead. Her soft brown eyes were now ringed with deep crimson, giving them a hollow appearance, as though the fire was lit but no one was home...and that was exactly the case. Isabela had seen many things in her life, but nothing touched her so deeply as this. _Bethany..._ She shuddered as she neared the chair in the middle of the bedroom floor, to which Bethany was chained by her wrists and ankles, squirming to break free with a fierceness that defied her nature. The demon possessing her smiled evilly using her features, as it noticed Isabela approach, seemingly pleased to see some new game had entered this makeshift arena. Clearly toying with ex-Templars had become rather dull. A notorious pirate rogue would undoubtedly be much more open to playing.

Bethany's bruised and beaten body was surrounded by four former Templars, weapons at the ready in case she should turn into an abomination. Commander Cullen stood protectively in front, with his back to her, as though not here to protect others from her, but to protect Bethany herself. He eyed Isabela warily as the injured pirate instinctively flinched for her daggers, though remembering that the demon was chained up and that to kill it outside of the Fade meant killing dear, sweet Bethany. Isabela could never live with herself after killing someone so pure, and then there was Hawke, who would be forever changed at losing the last remaining thread of her family.

"Not one step closer!" Cullen ordered, holding his sword out to stop Isabela.

"Cullen," Leliana admonished sadly, shaking her head.

Isabela relinquished her daggers, placing them on a nearby table with a clatter.

"I'm not here to kill her, Curly. I'm just here to see it with my own eyes," Isabela promised, holding up her hands in surrender. "I'd never hurt Bethany. She's practically family."

"I...No, you're right," Cullen relented, easing out of his combative stance. "I must remember my place. I apologise."

Isabela took a few steps closer, feeling sick to the stomach, much worse than the time she and her crew played shot-roulette with various poisons aboard The Siren's Call. She'd been sick for weeks afterwards until they found the right antidote. There was no antidote for Bethany's ailing body though. It was repulsive what had become of her.

"Why are her hands and feet bound?" Isabela asked, disgusted. Bethany chained up was a rare sight in itself. She had always been so timid and reserved. Her sister and brother were the troublemakers in the family. How had it come to this?

The demon began to laugh through its puppet.

"They're afraid of what I can do," it answered. Bethany's voice was heavily distorted, as though two people were speaking at once. Underneath the soft cadence of Bethany Hawke, was a more ominous, intimidating echo: the demon speaking through her.

"Oh good, you can talk!" Isabela mocked, rolling her eyes. "You demons just love to talk...Bores the pants off me."

"You disapprove?" the demon asked amusedly.

"Well, it's just wasteful really. There are so much more interesting things to do with the human mouth," Isabela joked.

Commander Cullen and Sister Nightingale groaned. Clearly they felt this was no time for jokes, but the harder things were, the more Isabela liked to make light of them. The demon laughed loudly and twirled Bethany's eyes into the back of her head, showing nothing but the whites. Then suddenly, she leaned forwards and retched loudly, vomiting up what looked like corrupted blood, clotted and blackened mush splattering all over the stone floor, and down Bethany's lap.

"Eugh!" Isabela recoiled.

Cullen rushed to Bethany's side and leaned her back in her chair. "Bethany?" he asked, "Bethany!?"

"I can do plenty of things with this mortal's mouth!" the demon snarled at Isabela, wearing a wicked grin. "She cannot hear you, Commander Cullen. She belongs to me now."

"Free her, demon! You do not belong in this world!" Cullen raged, grabbing Bethany's face roughly in both hands and staring into the depths of eyes which were no longer hers.

"Cullen!" Leliana shouted, seeing he was losing control. She placed a hand on his shoulder, encouraging him to release her. The Commander did so reluctantly, having realised his mistake. Any hand he laid on Bethany wouldn't have any effect on the demon. As a former Templar he knew this. The demon turned its attention back to Isabela then.

"Queen of the Eastern Seas," it sneered, "Sharpest Blade in Llomerynn...Feared Raider among men and women...You are just what I need."

"Oh stop!" Isabela chuckled, feigning flattery. "I've got a big enough head as it is. You might not want to contribute to it."

"Let's make a deal instead then," the demon enticed, enjoying her good humour. Bethany looked down at Cullen. "Step back, mortal. I wish to speak to... _Isabela_."

Cullen got to his feet and allowed Leliana to steer him away before he lost control again. Isabela folded her arms and relaxed into a cool stance.

"I'm listening. It's the least I could do after such words of adoration. Just what are you offering exactly?"

The demon smiled. "Hawke," she replied simply.

Isabela's heart stopped. She couldn't hide the fleeting hint on longing on her face, which went unmissed by the demon. It had hit its mark, and they had only just begun negotiations.

"Where is she?" Isabela demanded.

She exchanged a worried glance with Leliana and Cullen who looked just as confused as she did. _Is this true? It could be a trap. Demons are slippery buggers after all._ The Admiral decided to play it cool then. She had already given away her poker face once, she would not do so as easily again.

"Don't listen to this monster!" Cullen shouted angrily, "It's toying with us. Demons love to get inside your head. Don't let it!"

"No, no," Isabela chuckled, shushing him, "Let's hear the thing out. It obviously knows we're going to want proof before making a deal. Out with it, then!"

This seemed to entertain the demon. Bethany threw back her head in laughter again and her eyes swivelled to Isabela. "Your companions somehow found themselves trapped in, what you mortals call, the Fade."

"You mean there are others with Hawke?" Isabela asked, her heart quickening. _So they finally caught up to her!_

"Indeed, mortal. Others who escaped...But Hawke and the Grey Warden...did not."

Stunned, Isabela's blood ran cold. The world seemed to slip sideways under her. _Hawke's trapped in the Fade? With Donnic?_ That was if this demon was telling them the truth, and that was a big _if._

"Where are they now?" Sister Leliana asked in a hushed voice. "Where is Hawke?"

"The group of companions were being led by a Spirit. A Spirit you," the demon turned to Leliana, "may recognise. You were her Left Hand, according to what Bethany shared with me as we conversed."

"Justinia..." Leliana whispered, eyes wide. She turned, if possible, even paler and Isabela could see the ache of longing and the magnitude of loss in her eyes. In that moment, the pirate really did regret what she had said before about Navarre. Leliana was struggling with the sheer weight of her grief. It had changed her so.

"Indeed," the demon continued, revelling now in the amount of information it held and enjoying lording over these mortals. "But they were not alone. It is the domain of another of my brethren, one of the strongest of our kind. They are not asleep as would normally be the case. They are full manifestations of themselves in the Fade, a feat many did not believe possible. Most made it out safely, but the Champion and the Warden...they chose to stay, to let the others go free. They are challenging the ruler of that domain as we speak."

Isabela didn't know whether to believe it or not. "Ok, balls...Say for instance, this is true, and that you could give Hawke back to us. What would you want in return?"

"Isabela!" Cullen scolded.

"It's a simple question!" the pirate argued. "I haven't signed any bleeding contracts, Curly."

The demon laughed again. It was enjoying the commotion it was causing. "I want Bethany," it said simply.

"But, don't you already have her?" Isabela asked, confused. "I mean, aren't you possessing her?"

"This Mage was not as... _trustworthy_ as most that succumb to their emotions and converse with my kind. Before she bled her magic, she set up defences against me that I was not aware of," the demon replied, chagrined. "I am in control of her, but I do not fully own her. It's hard for me to... _settle in_. Painful...I am also trapped. She has strong emotional connections in this world that keep me from taking over, but once those are broken, she will succumb to my true power!"

"And so you want us to give her up?" Cullen snarled.

"Let me keep her, and you can have Hawke in return. A fair trade if you ask me."

"No," Leliana said bluntly, "Absolutely not! I'm putting an end to these proceedings. This is madness!"

She grabbed Isabela, who shook her off.

"Let go! I'm not leaving until I find out how to save Hawke!"

"This is a demon, Isabela!" the Commander shouted."Don't be an idiot!"

Cullen grabbed her and, together with Leliana, bundled Isabela outside and shut the door behind them, all the while the demon laughed and laughed, forcing the Templars to enact their own kind of magic to keep it at bay.

"Get your hands off me!" Isabela spat, as they reached the hallway. She could still hear the demon tormenting Bethany through the locked door, and her blood was boiling. "Hawke's in danger. We have to help her!"

"This is a demon, Isabela!" Cullen argued again, "It will say anything to get inside your head!"

"But what if it is telling the truth?" Isabela asked. "What if Hawke is really stuck in the Fade? Why aren't you taking this more seriously?"

"I'll send a few ravens to find out what has happened to the Inquisition and Hawke," Leliana promised, "But making a deal with a demon is out of the question, Isabela. Would you really give up Bethany's life for her sisters?"

At this Isabela faltered. "No...Of course not," she said sadly, "But what if there was something else the demon wanted?"

"Like you?" Leliana asked stunned, realising what she meant.

Isabela's amber eyes stared into Leliana's blue ones, and then glanced at Cullen. Without another word she turned and stormed down the stairs of the Keep and out into Skyhold's night.

###

Raging with fury and detesting the feeling of helplessness that was overcoming her, Isabela slammed her fist against a nearby wall. It didn't sit well, especially not on an empty stomach. Realising then just how hungry and weary she was, she ducked into the tavern and ordered herself a bottle of port and a bowl of hot stew. Huddled in the corner nearest the fire, she wolfed down the hearty meal and lay back on her chair, patting her stomach comfortingly and taking a few swigs of port to wash it down. She didn't realise she had fallen asleep upright, with her head leaning against the stone wall, until someone was waking her up with a gentle shake.

Confused, Isabela flinched and opened her heavy eyelids. A few hours had obviously passed. The tavern was almost empty now, and darker than before. She was still hugging her bottle of port but her empty bowl of stew had been cleared away by the tavern wench.

Sister Leliana sat herself down opposite her, joined by Commander Cullen. Leliana placed something wrapped in black silk on the table, and stared at Isabela. They both ordered drinks as a server passed, before finally speaking.

"Are you alright?" she asked in the businesslike tone that Isabela had grown so accustomed to since her arrival in Skyhold.

A muscle jumped in the pirate's jaw at the sight of her and she closed her eyes again. She was in no mood to talk to either of them. Her body had been through the ringer after travelling to save Hawke, and seeing Bethany chained up like an abomination had scarred her mind's eye. She was beginning to feel worn out. Skyhold really wasn't as fun as she would have hoped it to be. This Inquisition lot were a bunch of sombre, self-important pricks.

"I know how you must feel about me now, Isabela," Leliana continued, "But we need to talk about Lachlan Poole once again. I need to know more about this artefact that Bethany was carrying. It could be responsible for all of this."

Isabela yawned pointedly, eyes still closed. "Wake me up when the real Leliana comes back. I'm not interested in talking to this cold shell she's become. She used to be more fun."

The Admiral could tell she had hurt her, and not for the first time this day. Leliana's silence spoke volumes, but there was no scraping of chairs signifying she had up and left. A few moments passed as Isabela continued to pretend to be asleep, aware the other two were watching her closely.

"You know, I remember the first time Bethany came to visit me in the Cloister all those years ago in Lothering," Leliana said softly, her tone of voice completely changing then. "She was cute as a button, big brown eyes and forever asking questions about Orlais and my travels. She brightened my whole day back then..."

Isabela opened her eyes a little then and stared at her. In the dim candlelight, Leliana looked as tired and careworn as the pirate had ever seen her.

"I didn't know she was a Mage, why she was always on strict curfews, why Hawke seemed so overprotective of her and making sure she was safe," the Spymaster continued, with a glazed-over look as she fondly reminisced. "She was sheltered, and with good reason. But when I found out she had magic I...I guess it didn't matter really. Bethany was always a sweet girl. I cared for her deeply, although I let her down on many occasions, sleeping with Lana behind her back. It never once crossed my mind that after all that she'd be the type to consort with demons."

"Nor mine," Cullen added solemnly, "I brought her to the Circle back in Kirkwall reluctantly."

"You mean imprisoned her," Isabela contradicted, remembering Hawke falling to pieces in her arms in the middle of Lowtown as Bethany was dragged away by the Templars all those years ago.

"I was doing my duty!" Cullen retorted angrily. "I stood guard over Bethany for years, kept her safe despite Hawke's accusations that I was her captor! I understand why the Champion can't look past that and forgive me. I took her sister from her."

"You took the last of her family from her!" Isabela corrected, equally as angry.

"She had a mother, didn't she?" Cullen asked, confused. Isabela snorted.

"For lack of a better word," she sneered. "That old crow would make that demon pale in comparison, and a year or so later even Leandra was gone. You took the last thing Hawke had in Kirkwall, Cullen, you didn't _just_ take her sister. Even I, who has stolen more than my fair share of artefacts, haven't stolen something that precious from anyone...that I know of."

"The Qunari might disagree," Cullen replied smartly. Isabela rolled her eyes.

"Andraste's tits, it was a bloody book, Cullen, not a person. Not my fault the ox men are so uptight."

"Bethany was a model addition to the Circle of Magi," the Commander continued, "She passed her Harrowing with flying colours and was a genuinely peaceful girl, looking after the children there like they were her own. And now, under my watch she has succumbed to the allure of Blood Magic and let herself be possessed! I cannot believe it to be true!"

He slammed his fist on the table in frustration, as though he blamed himself personally for Bethany's fall from grace. Isabela took a sip of port from the bottle she was still hugging, and straightened up then, placing it on the table.

"Look," she began, putting her hands together and turning to face Leliana again, "If Lachlan Poole has something to do with this, then I'll find out. I'll string him up by his own entrails."

"Thank you, Isa—"

"But first," Isabela interrupted, before Leliana could finish, "You need to tell me the truth about who said I was planning a coup in the east. None of my crew would dare spill their guts to you for fear of me, so I need to know who really blabbed."

It seemed she and Leliana were at a stand-off of information. Neither wanted to give up what they knew and come away empty handed. The Spymaster reached over then and unwrapped the black silk cloth that she had placed on the table. Inside it was an amulet that looked vaguely familiar to Isabela. In that instant she knew immediately who had ratted her out.

"Tad..."

Leliana and Cullen were confused. "Who?"

Isabela actually laughed and shook her head in disbelief. _How the hell did Bethany come across this necklace? I stole it right out from under him and sold it on the black market in Kirkwall._

"Before I came back to Ferelden I... _recovered..._ this amulet, among other things, from a man known in the east as Ser Tadeus," Isabela sighed, wearing a wry smile. Cullen tutted and rolled his eyes, obviously objecting to her kleptomania.

"I know the name," Leliana replied, ignoring the Commander, "An agent of mine mentioned him their report."

"He's harmless, but he's easily contained. I have no idea how that necklace managed to make its way here though," Isabela said seriously, "Varric set up a fence in Kirkwall to help me pawn it before Tad found out my crew and I had jacked his stash. That was just before I came south to Skyhold. How in the Maker's name did Bethany come across it?"

Leliana hesitated. "She...she told me it came from your bag. Bethany found it there not long after you arrived. That why I knew to question you about it."

Isabela frowned. "What? My bag? Why was Bethany going through my stuff?"

Leliana bit her lip and stared down at her hands, looking rather uncomfortable then. Suddenly it hit Isabela. For the second time today she had found out Sister Nightingale had played her.

"You!" she snarled, her nostrils flaring in anger.

Isabela slammed both hands down on the table and bounced to her feet. The other two did the same as hostility grew between them. Isabela was actually shaking with fury. Feeling rather murderous, she grabbed the bottle of port from the table and smashed the bottom of it, drowning herself in its remains and wielding the sharpened glass as a weapon, holding it out towards Leliana. Before she could make a move and lunge for Leliana's jugular, Cullen dived across the table and tackled her to the ground, wrestling it from her grip.

"Seize her!" Cullen yelled to the other Templars in the tavern, as people gasped at the scene.

"Cullen, no! Let her be!" Leliana shouted.

A few more Templars rushed to help as Isabela proved to be too much for the Commander, catching him with a right hook. The others grabbed her arm and pinned her down. The pirate Admiral lay thrashing ferociously on the dusty wooden floor, smothered under the sheer weight of heavy armor, her head beginning to spin. As Cullen rested his forearm across her throat to subdue her, crushing the air out of her windpipe, Isabela's last thought was of Hawke and how much she wished she were here. After a few seconds of resistance, she finally passed out and drifted off into the blackness.


	20. The Best at Blackmail

For the second time in twenty-four hours Isabela found herself waking up in another cell. She had to admit, this must have been some sort of record for her. Still smelling like port from her stained clothes, she shook the drowsiness off and sat up, feeling pounding in her head. Frantically, she scoured the rubble on the floor for something sharp enough to pick the lock. _To the Void with this! I'm getting out of here._ She knew she was expendable to the Inquisition and that Cullen and Cassandra had a shared dislike of her, but they couldn't give her a trial or judgement until the Inquisitor returned. That meant sitting around like a lost puppy for however length of time, and Isabela was just not turned on by that idea. She had spent enough time in brigs in the past, and had no intentions of doing it now.

Suddenly, the door to the underground jail opened and Isabela scanned the darkness to see who it was. She retreated to the back of her cell, into the shadows so that it appeared empty on first glance. It was only as the flames of a lantern neared, did she see a glint of red hair underneath an all too familiar purple hood.

"There's an interesting story I heard about you, Isabela..."

Leliana began to pace up and down outside her cell, hands folded behind her back.

 _"_ Yes, yes, all right," the pirate sang from behind bars, playing along. "I just want it known I never asked for the goat. And the fire was accidental."

"I... that wasn't the story," Leliana said, a grin playing on the corners of her lips, despite the tension between the two of them. "But _that_ I would like to hear sometime. That is, if you're not executed by the Inquisition for attempting to kill their Spymaster twice in the one day."

"Don't I at least get a trial?" Isabela asked sarcastically. "We'll have time for talking then. I'm not feeling overly chatty at the minute."

"We may not get another chance," Leliana replied.

Isabela sneered. "The Inquisitor hasn't returned yet, has she? I'll most likely be down here for months until she does."

"True, but I have better things to do than visit prisoners," Leliana said coldly.

Isabela snorted. "Do you want me to just turn around now so you can stab me in the back again and get it over with? I mean, why wait, right?"

Leliana scowled. "Oh, stop playing the victim, Bela. You've done plenty of things in the past to be worthy of that cell. This was just one too many."

Isabela shrugged uncaringly. "The past is past. If it can bring you gold or giggles what's the point in dwelling on it."

She grimaced at the faintness and nausea creeping up on her then. This cell was a lot smaller than the last one. It reminded her of being in the Deep Roads all those years ago. Cramped spaces really weren't Isabela's thing. She could feel an uncomfortable tightness growing in her chest.

"I didn't want to put you in here," Leliana said then, "It was not my choice, but you gave Commander Cullen no choice."

When Isabela didn't reply, the Spymaster continued.

"I was in touch with an old friend of ours and he told me a story about your past..."

Isabela was beginning to hyperventilate now. She struggled to keep her breathing under control, as Leliana rambled on.

"It was back when you were married. Apparently your husband used to...do something which brought on a hidden weakness of yours...exposed it."

Clearly this hidden weakness was currently being brought into light as she spoke. Leliana stopped pacing, noticing that Isabela was struggling to stay calm. The Spymaster leaned against the cell door casually and crossed one leg in front of the other, observing her for a moment or two. "I just want to know if what I heard is true or not," she continued.

"Ask...but I can't promise I'll answer," Isabela replied in a strained voice, feeling a cool sweat break out on her forehead as she did so.

 _Come on! Hold it together! Don't let her see. Breathe, Isabela…The walls aren't closing in…They aren't. It's all in your head._

"What I was wondering…I mean, what I heard was….You're claustrophobic?" Leliana finally blurted out.

Isabela glared up at her pointedly from where she sat on the floor, pale faced and wheezing. "Oh, well done!" she replied with heavy sarcasm, as much as she could muster. "You know, to this day I wasn't sure of the extent of your skills, Leliana, but you never cease to amaze me! You got me! Spymaster General, you are! You found out my little secret! Shall I give you a pat on the back? Shall I kiss your sweet, succulent, flowery-scented…"

Isabela's mocking barrage of insults fizzled out as breathlessness overcame her. The entire cell was starting to spin now, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. _I'm going to pass out!_ She closed her amber eyes and held her head, willing the panic attack to ease, but it didn't.

Suddenly she heard the door to her cell click open for the second time today. She felt Leliana kneeling down beside her and a gentle hand rested on her back, surprising her.

 _Now she gives a damn? Andraste's ass, Leliana's changing personalities are confusing. It's like she's battling with her true nature...or she's only just remembering it._

"Here," Sister Nightingale said kindly, holding out a flask of water.

Isabela took it in her chained, shaking hands and tipped it down her throat as best she could. She shoved it back and clutched at her chest then, willing herself not to faint. _Shit! Shit! Shit!_ Sister Leliana said no more and instead raised Isabela to up onto her wobbly legs with great difficulty. The Bard threw an arm around her, ushering her out of the cell and quickly up the stairs. They past a lone guard who was yelling something Isabela couldn't comprehend, and exited the Inquisition jail, out into the cool night air.

As soon as it hit her, Isabela sank to the grass in both relief and because she hadn't any more strength left to keep standing. She wheezed, hyperventilating, feeling the numbness in her hands lessen and the tightness in her chest gradually release. Exhausted, she flopped over sideward and lay her head on the dampness, relishing being out in the open space.

"Maker, I miss the sea," she moaned longingly, closing her eyes and imaging the sound of the ocean lashing against the sides of her ship.

Leliana chuckled and sat down beside her, giving her a friendly pat.

"You don't belong here, Bela," she said kindly. "You should never have come."

Isabela opened her eyes then and sat up as best she could, wiping the perspiration from her forehead. "I know," she admitted. "I bloody know. This is all Hawke's fault. For as long as I'm with her, I'll forever be dragged into backwards politics and saving the world with all this heroic nonsense. It's not really my thing, sweetness."

"I don't really think its Hawke's thing either," Leliana said wisely. "I think she just feels partly responsible for tearing the world apart. She and Varric are trying to rewrite the mistakes they made in Kirkwall."

"And unfortunately where they go, I can't help but tag along," Isabela sighed. "Things can be so dull without them at times."

"Partners in crime, you are," Leliana laughed. "Though I know you can make such a ruckus on your own, Isabela. You have a natural talent for it."

"Balls...How did it come to this though?" Isabela groaned. "Tears in the sky, a walking, talking Imperial God? It's like something out of one of Varric's stories."

"I'm sure it will be his bestseller one day," Leliana chuckled.

"Meh, I prefer his romances. Hard in Hightown was an absolute masterpiece," Isabela sniggered. "I wonder if Aveline's read it yet..."

Leliana played with her hands awkwardly then, as Isabela slumped into a prone position again, trying to level out.

"Would you really have killed me back there in the tavern?" the Spymaster finally asked. "Had Cullen not stopped you, I mean."

Leliana's blue eyes were softer than usual as she asked the question. Isabela simply grinned up at her.

"Who knows?" she teased, "I don't like to show my hand before I play it, Leliana."

Sister Nightingale chuckled. "Fair enough."

"Though I don't usually let people get away with spying on me," Isabela added in serious warning. "You used Bethany to get to me, and you've pried into my relationship with Hawke. If it were anyone else, they wouldn't be standing right now...at least not with a head anyway."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll find a way to repay me in kind," Leliana smiled. "We do what we are meant to do, no?"

"True," Isabela agreed with a wicked grin, "I don't expect an apology from you, nor want one for that matter. I don't deal in apologies and forgiveness. I deal in deception and favours. I'm just letting you know as a professional courtesy, that I will get my own back."

"Ah, there is justice in the world yet," Leliana said, unperturbed, but aware of the pirate's reputation.

"Is there?" Isabela challenged. "You spout about The Maker and his will, Leliana, and all this bullshit about the Inquisition, but I know that you've been starting to doubt yourself since The Divine's death... You've changed. You used to care about people, even if they didn't deserve it. I don't pretend to know you that well, but I do know that you've lost your compassion."

Sister Leliana looked stunned to be hearing these words from Isabela, the infamous pirate raider. Truth be told, Isabela was a little taken aback herself. She wasn't normally one to dish out the truth, preferring to deal in lies and deceit, but she had a feeling that Leliana needed to hear this before she truly lost herself, and Hawke wasn't here to do it so the responsibility was left with her.

"You are right," Leliana said with a pained expression. "Justinia always said compassion was my greatest strength."

"Then don't let it disappear entirely," Isabela continued, "Let's say you do defeat Corypheus, but to get there, you kill a bunch of innocent people. What about them? Don't they then deserve justice?

"Yes," Leliana breathed sadly.

"And then what? Where does it end?" Isabela questioned, "It's like a bar brawl. People are continuously pulled into the fray, and nobody remembers why it started. Justice is an idea. It makes sense in a world of ideas, but not in our world."

"I suppose you have a point."

"You need your sense of purpose back, Leliana," Isabela continued, "You lost that when Justinia died. There is someone else who can give you it back however."

"A sense of purpose," Leliana repeated, knowing who Isabela was referring to then. "No, no….She doesn't want me anymore."

"I seriously doubt that," Isabela chuckled. "Hawke told me what happened with you two. It sucks but she's probably just angry. And I know first-hand how stubborn she can be. How much convincing did it take her to have that foursome all those years ago in The Pearl?" They both laughed. "All I'm saying is, maybe all Navarre wants is for you to stop sending your people after her, Leliana, and for you to come yourself, face to face, like it should be."

"I can't leave my position here. The Inquisition wouldn't last long without me...And besides, I wouldn't know what to say," Leliana admitted ashamedly.

"Say nothing," Isabela joked, "Just bend her round a tree trunk and give her a good hard seeing to. Sex is better than words, sweetness. If you don't have anything to say then don't say anything at all."

"I let her down, Isabela. I doubt it would just be as simple as that," Leliana chuckled. "It may seem that simple because you have a purpose, you have Hawke."

"Not anymore. You stole that from me. I wanted to find her myself, Leliana. She is my purpose and you took her from me by sending me that fake letter begging me to return to Skyhold," Isabela said.

"I am sorry about that," Leliana replied honestly, "I don't know what I was thinking. I wanted you to find her too but I-I thought I was doing the best for Bethany. If this artefact is responsible for her possession, then I fear it is my fault. I was the one who asked her to search your things when you arrived."

"Because you didn't trust me."

Leliana nodded. "I lost my trust in The Maker after Justinia's death. I don't trust anyone anymore."

"Trust gets people killed," Isabela said understandingly. "But only when it's misplaced, and it usually is when people put it in me."

"How did that amulet get here if you swore you didn't have it?" Leliana interrogated.

Isabela shrugged. "How should I know? I thought I'd sold it back in Kirkwall along with the other items I'd stolen from Tadeus."

"Then it seems that someone close to you is trying to hurt you, Isabela," Leliana warned her.

"You mean besides you?" the pirate sniggered. Leliana joined in.

The two women sat on the grass in silence for a moment, staring out at the night sky, peeking down at them from over the snowy mountaintops. Isabela had to admit, although she missed the ocean, Skyhold had its own kind of beauty. It would never be her kind, but there was something lovely about it all the same. Or maybe she was just grateful to be out of that cell.

"Have you always been claustrophobic?" Leliana asked interestedly then, with a little laugh. "I'm sorry, I find it so hard to believe. It seems so small a thing on the grand scale of how dangerously you live."

Isabela sighed. "That depends. How did you find out that I was? Who told you?"

"Zevran," Leliana admitted awkwardly. "We're still in touch. He's… one of my informants in the east. I was trying to find leverage on you once you arrived in Skyhold, just in case you caused trouble."

"Oh," Isabela replied, stung. Leliana really was thorough in her job as Spymaster. "So you know the real story then. You don't need to ask."

Leliana nodded, seemingly apologetic now that she knew the truth.

"Look, I just prefer open spaces," Isabela said evasively. She didn't want to think about the reasons why she suffered from claustrophobia, and much less wanted to talk about it with Leliana after everything the woman had done to her recently. "Hawke all but begged me to come along on The Deep Roads expedition with her years ago in Kirkwall. I wasn't too keen on the idea."

"What made you agree to go then?" Leliana asked surprised.

"Oh, the allure of sharing her bedroll," the pirate chuckled.

"Why am I not surprised?" Leliana giggled. "Does she know your secret?"

The smile slipped from Isabela's face. "No…I wasn't always this way. She knows I'm claustrophobic, but she doesn't know why."

"How come?" Leliana asked curiously.

"Because I don't want her looking at me the way you are now," Isabela said with a wry smile. Leliana's sadness turned to empathy then.

"Sorry, I guess I see your point."

Isabela sighed. "Look, Hawke knows more than most about my marriage to that idiot, Luis than anyone does. I never felt the need to tell her anymore. It's in the past. The bastard is dead, and I thanked Zevran _profusely_ afterwards for assassinating him. I may have to think of another way to say thanks so that he stops telling people my business though, now that I think about it."

"Yes, you might want to look into that," Leliana agreed with a chuckle. "But don't blame him too much. I am a very good Spymaster. It's hard to keep secrets from me."

Leliana got to her feet then and helped Isabela to hers, holding her by the shackles on her wrists. Both of them looked back at the entrance to Skyhold's jail and hesitated.

"So...are you going to put me back down there?" Isabela asked warily. She was already nauseated by the thought, and had not fully recovered from the previous round yet.

"Cullen and Cassandra would not be very happy if I didn't," Leliana replied solemnly.

"And since when do you answer to them?" Isabela taunted.

"I don't," Leliana said, "But I must respect the laws of the Inquisition, or so Josephine keeps telling me. You are our prisoner now, Isabela."

Isabela groaned. "And here I thought I'd turned over a new leaf," she said sarcastically.

"You must be tried before you are released...ButI may have a better alternative in the mean time if you are interested," the Spymaster said, as the pirate watched the cogs in her mind spinning. "You will still be a prisoner of the Inquisition and face a trial only when the Herald returns, but how would you feel about doing me a favour?"

"Very unwilling," Isabela laughed. "After everything you've done to me? Do I look like a mug?"

"I have you blackmailed, you are forgetting," Leliana said slyly. "I know you don't want to go back down into that cell. It would kill you, Isabela. Bring back all those bad memories that Zevran told me about."

"Don't pretend that you know me," Isabela said coldly.

"I'm not," Leliana replied, "I am offering you a way out until your trial. A favour for a favour."

"Oh? And what is that?" Isabela asked, surprised that she was still playing the blackmail card but realising that Leliana had her by the lady-balls. If it meant she didn't have to go back to the brig it was a win, but Isabela didn't trust Leliana. The woman had already proved how ruthless she could be. Yet something about this seemed like it had little to do with the Inquisition. This was personal.

Sister Leliana pulled her purple hood up and smiled, a spark of genius in her eyes.

"Let's go for a walk in the shadows, Isabela, up on the ramparts and away from listening ears."

"Are you going to unchain me first?"

"After," the Spymaster informed her, "Provided you are agreeable to the terms of your release."

Isabela grinned. "Lead the way then."

Sister Leliana smiled. "Of course. Let us walk then, and I will tell you the plan."


	21. Bridging the Distance

**Three Months Later**

"Halt! You will go _no_ further!"

It was the dead of night, though in which country, Isabela wasn't quite sure anymore. She had been on the move since dawn, and for the past few weeks she had been tracking newly found traces of a long lost acquaintance, hoping to catch up soon and put this ordeal to rest. Skyhold seemed like a distant memory now, though Isabela was aware that she needed to return soon. Any longer and Sister Leliana would think she had run off. Truth be told, it had crossed her mind. The only thing stopping Isabela from giving up this quest and sneaking back east on The Eider's Cry was the fact that if Hawke was to reappear anywhere, it would be Skyhold. As difficult as it was to stay without any speck of news about her love, Isabela knew that she really had no choice. Heart over head on this occasion.

 _Stupid heart. And to think I went years believing I never had one!_

Shocked at the sudden shouts of warning, Isabela froze, realising then she was in danger. She hovered uncomfortably, half way over a hedge that she was climbing through to reach a camp she had spotted from the distance.

"Er, can I come a little further?" she joked to the unknown hunter. "There is a rather prickly branch lodged up my-"

"Advance," the voice ordered firmly from the shadows, interrupting her perfectly painted image before it could manifest in the mind.

Isabela did as she was told, pushing with her back leg and lodging herself over the bush. She rolled rather unceremoniously into the clearing and dusted herself down after jumping back to her feet. She looked around, scanning the forest for some sign of life, but even with the light of the campfire it was impossible to see much beyond the velvety blackness. Suddenly, a pair of gleaming blue eyes penetrated the dark, and Isabela knew then that she had at last found her target.

 _Or rather, she has found me._

Navarre Mahariel, Hero and Warden-Commander of Ferelden, stepped out into the light with her bow aimed directly at Isabela's heart. She was thinner than Isabela remembered, her straight blonde hair cascading down across her chiselled shoulders, held by a thin braid on either side behind her small pointed ears. She was wearing light armor that reflected aspects of both her Dalish heritage and her Grey Warden allegiances. Isabela couldn't help but get a chill. Navarre's glowing blue eyes were just as she had remembered them, bright and blinding, reflecting the dormant magic in her blood.

"I see your eyes still dazzle when your emotions run high," Isabela greeted her. "I bet I could fetch a pretty price with those sapphires."

"Do I know you, Shem?"

"Skin deep only," Isabela smirked, "Though I did teach you a few things about duelling once upon a time."

Navarre's recognition didn't trigger. Isabela hadn't really expect it to. It had been ten years or so after all. Navarre had been so young during the Blight. Now she bore a wise and imposing demeanour, projecting more experience and confidence than before. She had obviously seen much in her travels. Isabela couldn't help but be impressed (and slightly aroused). The little elfling she had met all those years ago was all grown up.

Seeing that her description had been lost, Isabela added, "The Pearl in Denerim, shortly after the Blight. Don't you remember? As I recall you were very worthy of remembrance."

She threw her a cheeky wink and a smile. Navarre's features still didn't soften.

 _I really must have scared her shitless climbing over that hedge!_

Isabela fought the urge to laugh, realising the Hero of Ferelden was still in a state of shock at the unexpected company, especially way out in the middle of a forest on the outskirts of Thedas, without a village around for leagues. Navarre's arrow was still aimed at her heart, and Isabela knew she should be afraid. The more time passed in silence between them, the warier she grew, knowing Navarre wasn't renowned for her love of humans.

"Sorry to barge in like this, Warden-Commander. Just thought you might fancy a pint for old time's sake," Isabela continued casually, as though they had just ran into each other at the market and she hadn't just scoured three separate continents for her and arrived at her camp unannounced in the dead of night. She settled into said camp then without invitation, realising it was up to her to make the first move. As fearless as ever, Isabela placed herself down on a log beside the dim, crackling campfire that was busy slow roasting a generous slab of meat. "Maker's saggy y-fronts, that smells delicious! I am starving! Chased a squirrel for about a quarter mile back there but the little bugger dodged me and bolted up a tree before I could catch it."

The Hero of Ferelden looked utterly flabbergasted. The fact that she hadn't shot an arrow yet just proved her bewilderment, and Isabela couldn't help but be grateful that she hadn't been shot already. The string on Navarre's bow didn't lessen, as she held her aim with the dexterous and skilful precision that elves were renowned for.

"Stop!" Navarre demanded, as Isabela reached for a mug of ale that had evidently been hers and was about to help herself. "This is my camp! Who are you!?"

"You mean you still don't recognise me?" Isabela asked, slightly disappointed, placing the mug back down lest she get an arrow in the eye. "I know it's been years but, Andraste's tits, I haven't changed that much, have I?"

Suddenly self-conscious, the pirate picked up a nearby silver spoon and began to check her face for wrinkles in the reflection. Navarre Mahariel eyed her curiously then, the glowing in her eyes diming slightly as recognition took over.

"Wait…I do know you…But it can't be...Queen of the Eastern Seas?"

"Got it in one, Warden," Isabela grinned. She gave a little bow of the head in greeting. "Isabela to most. Surprised it took you that long. After all, you've seen more than just my face, or don't you remember?"

At this the elf scowled. "That," she replied sourly, finally putting down her bow and lowering herself onto a log facing Isabela, "was a mistake."

"Not the first time someone's told me that," Isabela chuckled. "People do tend to regret sleeping with me. Do you mind?" she gestured to the mug of ale again. "It's been a long journey out here to the arse end of nowhere. I've been tracking you for days. You're a bloody hard person to find."

"I cover my tracks."

"Luckily I had help," Isabela replied.

The elf reluctantly nodded her head, and her eyes dimmed back to their normal, everyday blue, watching Isabela warily as though she still didn't trust her. Isabela gratefully held up the mug in cheers, and downed the ale in one. _Oh, glorious, Orzammar's finest!_ She smacked her lips, helping herself to another without asking.

"Help from whom?" Navarre demanded coldly. Isabela had a feeling she had given the game away a little too early. She had hoped to butter Navarre up a little first, remembering the good old days before revealing who put her on this path. The Hero of Ferelden wasn't an easy person to sidetrack however.

Isabela sighed.

"Look, I know how this must seem, and believe me, I would rather be anywhere else...She just wants to see you," the pirate said gently, trying to soften the blow.

"If that is the case why didn't she come looking for me herself?" Navarre asked simply, needing no name to figure out who exactly Isabela was referring to. Even through her obvious cold outer-shell, Isabela could see that the very thought of Sister Leliana was a painful one for Navarre. "I told her in a letter that I'd kill whoever she sent next."

"Oh…Well, shit. I guess she 'forgot' that tiny detail when she blackmailed me into doing this," Isabela chuckled nervously, poised then in case she had to suddenly get ready for a fight. Navarre wasn't at all trustworthy of or sympathetic towards humans the last time they had met. Isabela wasn't ready to risk her life wondering if the years of experience had changed her or not.

"Relax, Shem," the elf said, as though reading her mind. She half-smiled at the idea. "You were one of the few people that I met and actually liked back then. Leliana knew that. I believe that was her motivation for sending you. She still plays dirty it seems."

"Don't we all?" Isabela smiled, glad to hear that she was, at least for the time being, in Navarre's good books. "Still, I'm not going to pretend that I'm not relieved. I'd rather do this than sit in an Inquisition prison waiting for the blasted Herald to condemn me."

"Why didn't you just run?" Navarre wondered.

Isabela hesitated. "I couldn't. It's complicated. I've been travelling for months, following Inquisition reports of sightings of you. Leliana has quite the little spy ring going on now, but…I guess you already know that."

Navarre said nothing. Instead, she picked up a platter and began to tear bits of meat off the roast. She handed it in offering to a surprised Isabela, whose stomach rumbled on cue.

"Don't mind if I do," Isabela chuckled, accepting it. She glanced around the camp then, realising it was only set for one. "I didn't expect to find you so alone."

"After hearing what happened in Adamant I decided it wasn't safe to travel with the Grey Wardens any longer," Navarre revealed. "I never fully trusted them anyway, even those that were elvhen. I thought I'd be safer by myself from then on."

"Any news of finding a cure for The Calling?" Isabela asked interestedly, popping a piece of perfectly cooked meat into her mouth. It tasted like bear. Clearly Navarre was still adept at hunting from her time among The People. Taking down a bear on your own was no easy feat.

"A few leads. Nothing concrete," Navarre answered, filling herself a plate of mean and tucking in. "But come on, Captain Isabela. We both know you didn't come all this way to talk about Warden business. She sent you here for a reason."

"It's Admiral now, actually," Isabela bragged proudly. "I promoted myself after Kirkwall. Figured I'd earned it...But you're right. I didn't come all this way for that. You know why I'm here, Navarre."

An awkward silence passed between them. Isabela didn't know how to break it, and was surprised when Navarre was the one who obliged.

"How…How is she?"

It was a simple enough question but Isabela knew how much Navarre had wanted to ask it since she had arrived. Despite this, the Admiral was unsure of how to reply.

"Different," Isabela said truthfully.

Navarre snorted. "Tell me about it," she said sarcastically.

Isabela laughed too. "Sorry, I suppose you know that better than anyone."

"I do. Fen'Harel played a cruel trick on me ten years ago it seems," Navarre answered, possessing all the wisdom of a Dalish Keeper. She massaged her tattooed forehead as though the very notion of her relationship with Leliana gave her a migraine. "I was led to believe that people could change, but deep down what we really do is stay the same, and revert back to our original selves over time as our masks to the outside world fade. The Keeper was forever telling me that when I was younger, but...I never listened. I normally just took people at face value."

"Is that how you feel about Leliana?" Isabela ventured curiously. "You think she led you to believe she was someone that she wasn't?"

"All I know is, Leliana is no longer the woman that I fell in love with," Navarre said sadly, "and that she is a master of The Game. Since she left Ferelden for Orlais I've always wondered if the real her was the person she was back then, or if the person she is now was her true self all along. The Dread Wolf in the flesh."

"I see your point," Isabela relented, onto her third mug of ale already. "I guess I'm lucky that the Champion of Kirkwall and I are pretty consistent in being detrimental to each other's health. We just sort of…breeze through it, and accept it for what it is. We're both the poison and the antidote."

"By the Creators, you finally settled with one bed partner?" Navarre asked, sniggering at the thought. "Maybe I was wrong then. Maybe people can change!"

Isabela chuckled. "Or maybe they just adjust," she admitted instead, having never really thought about it this deeply. "I'm still as shady as I've always been. Hawke is just one of the few people who can actually keep up. She's a rarity in this world full of idiots."

"I have heard the stories," Navarre said. "She certainly does more than keep up. Hawke's reputation and infamy is on par with yours, if not worse."

"Speaking of infamy, what about you?" Isabela wondered. "Haven't you changed at all?"

"You tell me. Ten years ago I would have killed you on sight for looking at me wrong. Now I'm offering you a drink and a bite of my kill despite the fact that you just invaded my camp in the dead of night," Navarre joked.

They both laughed. It was strange seeing this once bitter elf able to ease the tension without prompting. Isabela had to admit, _this_ Hero of Ferelden certainly seemed more grounded and less harsh then the one she had frolicked with a decade ago at The Pearl in Denerim.

"You said Shem quite a lot back then," Isabela teased. "Wielding it like a flail at both nobles and common folk alike. I rather admired your balls. You never kissed any asses…at least not figuratively speaking. Literally however, I have some fond memories there."

Navarre laughed, her pale skin blushing a faint pink in embarrassment. "I still call people Shem," she admitted. "Though with less venom than in my youth. After what happened to all those humans in Amaranthine, I…."

Her voice trailed off, and Isabela could hear the stinging pang of regret. The elf's eyes became hooded and sorrowful then. Navarre's time as Warden-Commander in the Arling of Amaranthine hadn't ended well. Isabela recalled hearing that Navarre chose to protect her Keep instead of the city when the Darkspawn attacked unexpectedly after the Blight. The casualties in the City of Amaranthine were more monstrous than the Darkspawn that had caused them. It was an absolute massacre on top of what the Blight had already destroyed.

"Who in the right mind thought it was a good idea to put you in charge of those wretched Shems? Bloody idiots!" Isabela teased, trying to make her smile again.

Clearly Navarre had been heavily burdened by guilt since that battle. _That must have been what finally humbled her and lessened her prejudices,_ Isabela observed silently, watching the Hero lose herself in a mountain of regrets. Isabela remembered back to how she had felt after drowning all those slaves in her days with the Felicisima Armada, just to out-sail the Orlesian Navy and escape execution for slave trading. _It certainly changed me, being responsible for that kind of slaughter._ Isabela knew more than anyone what guilt could do to a person. She'd had her fair share of it, lest she ever admit it aloud.

"That was my reasoning too," Navarre sighed, agreeing with her statement. "I didn't want anything to do with them. Leliana was the one who persuaded me to take the role of Warden-Commander, promising to help me with it, to be by my side as I struggled to stay afloat in a harsh, foreign world...But when the Divine's call came, she up and left at the first chance, proving me right for having not trusted her in the beginning. Mythal, I'm the idiot for even accepting the role in the first place!"

"You are many things, Navarre, but you are definitely not an idiot," Isabela offered kindly, shoving a mug of ale into her hand to cheer her up. "Power is power. You were given something you deserved and you took it. Andraste's tits, who wouldn't? Rather have it that not, but not everyone knows how to control power."

"I shouldn't have trusted her," Navarre said sadly, shaking her head. "I should have trusted my instincts and refused."

"I don't trust many people, but Leliana usually means well, or at least she did back then. Although her love affair with The Maker does bore me into an early grave, I have to admit." Isabela joked. "You can't blame Leliana for what happened in Amaranthine. You need to own your mistakes, Navarre. I learned that the hard way."

Navarre chuckled. "Yes, I…heard about the goings on in Kirkwall. You and your friends certainly caused a stir. Did you really steal that Qunari relic?"

"And returned it!" Isabela added defensively, "Everyone always seems to forget that bloody part."

"My apologies," the Warden said hastily.

"Oh shove your sorrys in a sack, little elfling! Just get that down your neck so I can pour you another one!" the pirate said, gesturing to the untouched ale in her mug. Navarre did as she was told.

"So... she sent you here to what, capture me? Drag me back kicking and screaming?" the Hero of Ferelden asked, accepting another drink from Isabela. They were fairly getting through the bottle now.

"Actually Sister Nightingale sent me here to save me from spending the last few months in an Inquisition prison."

"What did you do this time?" Navarre chuckled.

"Attempted to kill her...Twice...In one day," Isabela said awkwardly.

Navarre choked on her ale and spat it into the fire. The flames sparked out the sides and crackled wildly. "What!?"

"It's a long story," the pirate continued, hoping she wouldn't fly off the rails. "Dear, sweet Leli just overstepped the mark with me a few times since I arrived in Skyhold to see Hawke."

"And you tried to kill her!?"

Even as strained as her relationship was with her former flame, Navarre couldn't keep the venom from her voice.

"Hey, it wasn't like that," Isabela said hastily, before she found herself in a fight. "At least not exactly. She rubbed me up the wrong way is all. I reacted. It was the other Inquisition willy-fiddlers that had me arrested. I now have to have a bastarding trial when the Herald of Andraste returns from the Western Approach…I just hope she's brought Hawke back with her. I don't think I'll escape this without her influence...not legally anyway."

Isabela stared into the campfire sadly then. There had been no word of Hawke since Bethany's demon told them she was trapped in the Fade. Isabela hoped it wasn't true. Leliana had promised to send word when the Inquisitor and the others had returned, but in the months Isabela had been tailing the Hero of Ferelden, there had been nothing, not even a letter.

"You'll need someone to speak on your behalf," Navarre said. "This Inquisition possess real authority. I met Commander Cullen during the Blight. He takes his calling very seriously."

"He takes everything seriously," Isabela said, rolling her eyes. "And as for someone speaking for me, I...was rather hoping that it would be you. You're the closest key to freedom that I've got, Navarre."

Navarre exhaled. She got to her feet then and walked closer to the campfire, holding her thin fingers over it for warmth, losing herself in thought. Isabela scanned the Warden's slender figure, remembering back to their adventurous foray in the sheets all those years ago. She smiled as she reminisced, tilting her head to the side in admiration, taking in all angles.

 _I forgot about that cute little ass of hers._

"I…will have to think about it," Navarre said finally, without looking at her. "I don't know if I can bear it…I…You don't understand, Isabela."

"Try me," the pirate countered, draining yet another ale.

"Leliana broke my heart," Navarre choked, her voice breaking with emotion. "She reminded me that I had one, then took it for her own and shattered it."

Isabela didn't know how to respond. She could hear the pain in the Hero of Ferelden's words. Clearly she had held onto this for a long, long time.

"Ever since Leliana left to be Justinia's Left Hand she hasn't given me a second thought!" Navarre continued, her eyes glowing blue as she lost control of her emotions again. "I loved her!"

"Not everything is supposed to become something beautiful and long lasting," Isabela told her gently. "Some people come into your life to show you right and wrong, to show you who you can be, to teach you. Leliana probably thinks about you all the time. You probably think about her. The problem is that neither of you are doing anything about it!"

"She didn't even try to—"

"Leliana thought you were dead!" Isabela interrupted, knowing full well after all this time that this was the main reason why Leliana didn't try to find Navarre. "You have a blasted tomb at Weisshaupt that I know for a fact she visited! She thought she'd already found you, Navarre. She'd found your corpse. That's why she stopped looking."

Navarre did a double take, glancing back at Isabela in surprise.

"She...visited my tomb...?"

"Yes," Isabela nodded, getting to her feet as well then, her amber eyes staring into Navarre's lightening blue ones. "Or so Hawke told me. Look, I know this must be hard for you. You and Leliana have a lot of history and you've been apart for a very long time. Maybe meeting face to face is better than actively avoiding each other forever, don't you think? Balls, you might never get another chance to see her if Corypheus destroys the world! There's this fantastic thing called 'moving on', you should both try it some time."

Navarre actually smiled then. "Leliana certainly knew what she was doing when she sent you to find me, it seems."

Isabela was taken aback. She thought she'd be terrible at this. "It's probably just the ale talking, sweetness," Isabela snorted. "But does that mean you're finally coming to Skyhold?"

The Hero of Ferelden turned back and stared into the fire once more, taking a while to consider.

"Yes," she said, finally giving in. "I think this needs to be done, though for better or worse I am not entirely sure."

"Worse," Isabela chuckled, "It's usually worse, but that's no reason to say that it can't _ever_ get better."

Navarre turned back to her and smiled the first proper smile Isabela had ever seen her wear.

"You are wiser than you get credit for, Isabela."

"It's a hidden talent," the pirate teased. "I'm not all just tits and ass, you know."

"I know," Navarre admitted sincerely. "I never thought you were. Not for one second."

"I didn't know you thought so highly of me when we met," Isabela replied, genuinely surprised. "No one else ever does."

"I did," Navarre admitted with a kind smile. "I learned more from you than just how to duel... You taught me how to laugh again."

Isabela smiled, appreciating the genuineness of such a statement. Navarre really had changed for the better. Isabela could scarcely believe it, though the evidence was right here in front of her.

"We did have a glorious time that night," the Admiral admitted fondly. "Maybe we'll get another one back at Skyhold."

"We will," Navarre said softly, finally taking the first step on a path she had been afraid to follow, knowing where it led. The Hero of Ferelden met the pirate dead in the eye then and gave her a curt nod. "I will go with you, Isabela. I will see what Leliana has to say. It is time...I have been on my own for far too long."


	22. Hollow

Travelling back to Skyhold with the Hero of Ferelden didn't take as long as Isabela had imagined it would. Clearly Navarre knew her way around these parts like the back of her hand, and a lot better than Isabela did, for they encountered little to no bandits along the way and their total journey time was cut in half. After their initial deep, and rather personal, conversation the first night they met, Navarre wasn't as talkative now. She withdrew more and more as the month passed, retaining that air of mystery that Isabela had been so intrigued with a decade ago. The way Navarre held herself, the way she moved. It portrayed such an impressive inner strength, like she needed no one and nothing, dependent on only herself. Mahariel certainly kept her cards close to her chest, something that Isabela could respect. They had that in common, but where Isabela filled the void with jokes and laughter, Navarre filled it with silence and contemplation. Occasionally on nights like tonight, the two women would share a bit of friendly banter and a meal before falling asleep, but overall the Hero of Ferelden kept mostly to herself. Isabela imagined this must have been how it was travelling with her during the Blight. Despite the elf's sharp tongue, Isabela was surprised to find that she was quite reserved and quiet. Or maybe she just had too much on her mind.

 _I know the feeling._

Isabela lay in her bedroll, curled up tight against the cold with the edge tucked under her chin. She could hear Navarre muttering something elvish in her sleep. Isabela glanced over, seeing the elf smiling to herself or whoever she was talking to in her head. It must have been a good dream.

 _Balls, if only I was so lucky._

The last few nights Isabela had been plagued with torturous nightmares involving Hawke. She was seriously worried now that there had been no news from either her, Varric or the Inquisitor. Had they survived? Were they still stuck in the Fade? What if…? _No._ Isabela couldn't even let herself think that the worst might have happened. Willing herself to fall asleep, she closed her eyes again as Navarre fell quiet again, and tried to push her worries to the back of her mind. They would be at Skyhold tomorrow. She could worry about it then, if and when she found out there was actually something to worry about.

The next morning, Isabela woke to the smell of... nothing. Confused, she sat up, wondering why the scent of cooking bacon wasn't tickling her nostrils like yesterday, and found that Navarre had already packed up the majority of camp and had put out the fire.

"What's going on?" Isabela asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. It felt as though she'd only passed out for a second. She couldn't believe it was already morning.

"We haven't any food left that isn't spoiled and we're almost at Skyhold," Navarre informed her. "If we leave now we can make it over the lowest peak of the Frostback Mountains in half a day. I know a secret tunnel that runs underneath with a Grey Warden cache to boot. There might even be food there, and better shelter."

Isabela couldn't argue with her logic. She dragged herself out of her bedroll then and helped pack up the rest of camp. Together, the Warden and the Admiral set off, feeling the chill cascade down from the mountains and gradually meeting the snow. They followed the hidden path that only Navarre could see. After a few hours, Isabela had fallen far behind, bogged down by the terrain and the heavy winds. She shielded her eyes from the blizzard, glancing ahead to see where Navarre was and realising that the elf had stopped to let her catch up.

"How…?" Isabela gasped, holding a stitch in her side as she neared. "How are you walking through this bloody storm with such ease? Your feet aren't even sinking into the snow!"

They both glanced down at Navarre's elegant brown leather boots. The smooth layer of snow she was standing on had barely even cracked under her weight.

"I'm an elf," Navarre reminded her. "I'm a lot lighter than you are."

"Hey!" Isabela replied, "Are you saying I'm fat?"

"What? No!" Navarre groaned. "Mythal's poison! Why are Shemlen always so touchy about their weight?"

"Well we can't all be naturally skinny like you knife ears," Isabela teased before she could stop herself. To her immense relief, this new easy-going Navarre saw the funny side, and took the joke like it was meant. She did swing a kick at her though, showering Isabela with even more snow.

"Oy! I'm sinking here!" the pirate protested, as the elf laughed her head off. "Look at my good coat!"

Isabela shook the lapels of her blue jacket, shaking the excess snow onto the ground.

"Ir abelas!" Navarre cursed, rolling her eyes. "Come on, lean on me for support. If we walk at your pace Corypheus will have won before we even get there."

"Sailing agrees with me better than hiking," Isabela said defensively, allowing Navarre to drag her out of the sinking snow and guide her as the blizzard grew even heavier. It was a relief to finally make it inside the Grey Warden tunnel.

Isabela shivered against the dampness and shook the snow out of her hair. She withdrew her red pirate hat from her pack and jammed it on her head, over the top of her bandana.

"Creators, did that promotion come with a new hat?" Navarre chuckled, clearly thinking she looked ridiculous.

Isabela grinned. "You can't wear something this flashy without a title to go with it, sweet thing. That's foolish and amateurish!"

"I suppose you really shouldn't put yourself out there unless you can back it up with skill," Navarre agreed.

"Too right, you little tree-hugger," Isabela teased with a crooked grin. "Now about this Grey Warden cache-"

"It's over here. Watch you step, there are—"

Isabela had already started to disarm one of the traps.

"I'm a rogue, sweetness. I could spot a shitly built set-up in my sleep," Isabela said coolly.

"Flashy _and_ frisky!" Navarre teased, "I'm beginning to remember more of the first night I met you now."

"Same here! It's so bloody cold I can see your nipples through that top," Isabela grinned, staring at the Navarre's small, perky breasts with fondness in her eyes. Navarre scowled and pulled her green hunter jacket closed, shielding herself from Isabela's beady amber gaze that seemed to be burning a hole through the fabric. The pirate laughed.

"You certainly do a good job of making people nervous," Navarre sulked, hugging herself shyly. "I'm starting to recall how you talked me out of my clothes once before."

"Well, I'm not an easy person to forget," Isabela winked.

"Not always a good thing, believe me," Navarre sighed, sounding as though she was speaking from experience.

"Maybe you just have low _elf-esteem_ ," Isabela replied. She began to titter with laughter at her own joke.

"Terrible pun," Navarre groaned, shaking her head and growing impatient with Isabela's wit sidetracking them. "Hurry and open that cache so we can get out of here, will you?"

"Oh lighten up, pointy tits. You're too pretty to be this dull!"

"And you certainly don't miss an opportunity to flirt," Navarre exhaled, though blushing a little all the same.

"It's just my way," Isabela chuckled.

There was a gorgeous _click!_ and the Grey Warden cache sprung open, full of goodies. The two women began to sift through it.

"What a pile of junk!" Navarre complained, holding half a Grey Warden shield and an old boot. She tossed them aside and picked up an apple and a half eaten banana. "There wasn't as much food as I thought. It must have been raided already. Here, some bread for you."

"Great," Isabela moaned, taking the hard roll she tossed her. "I guess we're going hungry until Skyhold then…and sober."

"Looks like it," Navarre sighed. "We should be there in a few hours though. This tunnel goes directly through the Frostsbacks and out the other side."

"Provided there aren't any collapses," Isabela said warily, staring up at the low ceiling and feeling a familiar sense of suffocation.

 _And to think I did this quest to get away from my embarrassing claustrophobic tendencies._

"Let's go," Navarre ordered, "There's no point hanging around if we know Grey Wardens are nearby. I don't fancy a fight on an empty stomach."

"What if they're friendly Wardens?" Isabela teased.

"Well, I don't fancy talking much either," Navarre replied coldly.

Isabela sniggered and didn't argue with her logic. Without another word, they made their way downwards into the tunnel. Keeping their eyes peeled for any sign of resistance. Isabela consumed herself with thoughts of Hawke, using the worrying visions in her nightmares as a welcome distraction now from her suffocating claustrophobia. Walking through the Grey Warden tunnel reminded Isabela of the expedition into The Deep Roads. Even then she struggled with being so far underground, although it was easier to maintain calm with Hawke and the others and a few bottles of whiskey. _Plus, there's nothing like the ominous threat of Darkspawn hordes to keep you on your toes,_ she thought jokingly. Still it wasn't long before she and Navarre spotted light at the end of the long, thin, rocky corridor and then stepped out into the free air again.

Isabela took a deep breath and welcomed the breeze as it hit her square in the face. Instantly she felt the tightness in her chest lift, and she exhaled in relief. The blizzard had stopped now and the mountainous mist had evaporated, giving them a full, unspoiled view of Skyhold in the distance. The months Isabela had spent searching for the Hero of Ferelden meant that the Inquisitor and her companions should have returned by now or at least be close. Isabela never dreamed she'd be this happy to see Skyhold's walls again, and she hoped desperately that Hawke would be waiting there for her when she finally reached them.

 _Or lying naked in bed waiting for me._

Isabela quivered excitedly at the thought. As she made to descend the snowy hill, she realised that Navarre was no longer by her side.

"What's wrong?" Isabela asked, turning back, realising the Hero of Ferelden had frozen after dropping her bags to the floor in defeat. She was staring into the distance rather sorrowfully.

"I…I don't think I can do this," Navarre muttered, not taking her eyes off Skyhold.

"Bullshit, yes you can!" Isabela argued, her patience wearing thin now. They were so close. "I wouldn't have bother coming after you if I didn't think you and Leliana had a chance."

"Elgar'nan! Stop with the pep talks, Isabela. You only want me to come because otherwise you're looking at a death sentence if you show up empty handed!" Navarre snapped.

"I…know I do," Isabela admitted, realising Navarre wasn't a person she could fool with pretence so she didn't bother trying. "I'm not overly interested in your tangled love webs, if I'm honest. I couldn't give a rat's ass if you and Leliana make up. I'm sick of hearing about it and we've only spoke of it the one bloody time!" She grabbed Navarre by the scruff then as she lost her temper, staring her in the face. "All I want to do is find Hawke and Varric, make sure Bethany is demon-free, get pissed like the good old days and leave Skyhold at the first bloody chance!"

"Finally the Isabela that I remember comes to the surface," Navarre snarled back. "Selfish pirates never change do they?"

"Almost as much as bitter elves do," Isabela sneered smartly. "Now get your shit together, Navarre. I haven't got time to babysit any longer. I need to find Hawke."

Isabela released her then and picked up the Warden's backpack. She shoved it into her arms roughly before turning away from her and beginning the short walk to Skyhold. After several seconds she was happy to finally hear crunching footsteps behind her. Navarre had followed. Her heart beating rapidly after the brief altercation, Isabela stormed on ahead to their destination, leaving the Hero of Ferelden trailing along reluctantly behind her.

###

The gates to Skyhold swung inwards, and the guards greeted Isabela with a curt nod. Ignoring them, Isabela walked into the courtyard and began to ascend the stairs towards the Keep. She turned to Navarre then, seeing the elf was keeping her head bowed in case anyone should recognise her.

"Relax," Isabela said then, feeling a little sorry for how harsh she had been before. She knew this would be difficult for her. "We'll call into the tavern first and I'll get you a pint of ale to calm the nerves."

"Do you think she already knows I'm here?" Navarre asked anxiously.

"I'm sure of it," Isabela replied honestly, "Let her come to you, sweetness. We've had a long journey. Be a good idea to unwind before you two go at it. I'm sure once that conversation starts it will be a bloody long one."

Navarre chuckled uneasily and they entered the tavern. Isabela led her over to a table in the corner and they deposited their things on the floor, exhaling with relief as their tired bodies finally sat down on the hard wooden chairs. The pirate ordered two steins of the finest ale on offer. She then pulled out a deck of cards and began to deal.

"Got room for one more?" a familiar voice said.

Isabela dropped the cards and jumped to her feet, realising who it was. She flung her arms around him, elated at the sight of her friend.

"VARRIC!" she gushed, "You're back!?"

"In a matter of speaking," Varric said gruffly.

"You could have sent me a bloody letter! I was worried sick!" Isabela replied. "What happened? Where is everyone? Where's Hawke?"

She patted the dwarf on the arm affectionately and pulled him up a chair, grinning from ear to ear. Varric sank onto it, pale-faced and careworn, wearing none of his usual charm. Isabela immediately knew something was wrong.

"Varric?" she asked uncertainly, staring him dead in the eyes and feeling a knot form in the pit of her stomach. "Where...Where's Hawke...?"

Varric's eyes were soft and tearful. He didn't answer.

"Varric? Varric, where is she?"

The dwarf avoided her eyes. His head dropped and he shook it in defeat. For the first time in his life he was speechless.

Isabela's breath stuttered as the truth hit her. She had forgotten how to breathe. She immediately succumbed to the sensation that someone had kicked her in the chest. At that moment the tavern wench edged in between them and placed a stein of ale on the table in front of her, then walked away. Numb, Isabela stared into the depths of the frothing mug, feeling whacked out of joint. The noise of the tavern lulled her into a daze. Slowly, Isabela took off her red Admiral's hat and placed it on the table. To the shock of the other two, she simply picked up the deck of cards beside it and dealt Varric his hand.

"Two sovereigns each," she ordered in a strange voice that sounded nothing like her own.

"Isa—"

"Two sovereigns!" Isabela interrupted loudly, before Navarre could finish. She couldn't look at either of them. She remained staring at the ale.

A sombre silence followed. Varric broke it by tossing his coins onto the table. Navarre did the same. Isabela continued with the game. They got to the end of the round without uttering a single word. They showed their cards. The pirate had won. Isabela clenched her teeth. She stared at the pile of coins in the middle of the table. They were hers. She had been victorious. The pirate's chair scraped across the floor. Instead of reaching for her winnings she ignored them. She got to her feet and walked away.

"Rivaini," Varric called after her regretfully. His words failed him again. He couldn't follow.

The door to the tavern swung shut behind her.

Hollow, Isabela walked up the stairs to the keep. In that moment she felt as though she was all alone in the middle of the Waking Sea, treading water in a storm, fighting to keep herself afloat, but knowing it was pointless and she was going to eventually drown. She'd never associated the sea with drowning before. It always just held the next adventure, the next treasure chest, the next battle. Now the very prospect of it seemed daunting.

Isabela pushed open the doors to Skyhold Keep and glanced up at the top of the great hall. Ellana Lavellan was sitting on her throne, leaning on her elbow, holding her head in her hand looking utterly defeated. Ignoring the muttering nobles, Isabela walked the length of the hallway and up the small set of stairs towards her. She stopped a few feet away. The Inquisitor looked up.

"Isabela!" the elf whimpered. "I'm so sorry. I tried to save her, I-"

"Where is Leliana?" Isabela interrupted coldly. Her whole body was ready to fail her. She wanted to get this over with.

"S-She's speaking with Josephine," Ellana informed her, point to the room on the right. "She's..."

Isabela didn't wait to hear the rest. She turned her back on the Inquisitor and entered the room to the left of the great hall. Inside, Leliana was standing in front of Josephine's desk, leaning on it with both hands, her head bowed. The Ambassador was patting her back, trying to console her while simultaneously dabbing her own face.

"I found the Hero of Ferelden," Isabela blurted out loudly.

Leliana jumped and both she and Josephine spun around. The Spymaster's face was soaked with tears. She rushed to the pirate and made to put her arms around her but Isabela held her off, keeping her at a distance.

"Navarre is in the tavern with Varric," Isabela continued unemotionally, staring at the ground. She didn't want to see Leliana's grief. She didn't want to know how much she was hurting right now. She couldn't bear it. She couldn't look. It was all she could do to keep going right now. "I...I did what you asked of me. Now I must leave."

"Isabela," Leliana whispered softly. "You can't leave. Please...I don't want you to go."

"I need to," Isabela replied through clenched teeth. "I need to get out of here."

"What about Bethany?" Leliana begged. "You can't just leave her. Not like this... And Varric? What will he do without you?"

At this Isabela inhaled sharply and tears forced their way into her eyes no matter how hard she tried to fight them. She clenched her jaw even harder and glanced up at the ceiling then, desperately holding herself together.

"There's nothing left here for me anymore."

Isabela then turned her back on Leliana and Josephine and returned to the main hallway. She was buffeted left and right as she made her way through the gossiping noblemen and women, feeling like she was having an out-of-body experience. This couldn't be real. It couldn't be...How could people be complaining about stinking cheeses and fine wines right now? How could anything else in Thedas be that important in this moment? Why did none of these bastards seem to care that Lana Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall was dead...? Isabela wanted to scream at the idiots, to run them through with her blades over and over so they could feel a speck of what she was feeling right now, but she could scarcely believe it herself. She couldn't blame them. The entire world hadn't come to a standstill after all, only hers had.

Exiting the keep, Isabela took a few steps away from the door and hovered at the top of the staircase outside. She stared out at the rest of Skyhold below for a few seconds then closed her eyes, feeling the gentle evening breeze on her face.

"The pirate lady is in pain," an eerie voice said behind her.

Isabela knew who it was. She opened her eyes.

"Go away, Cole."

"I want to help," the boy said softly. "I can make it go away...make you forget..."

Isabela closed her eyes again and shook her head. "Forget she ever existed?" she whimpered feebly.

"Forget the pain," Cole replied gently.

"I don't have any pain," Isabela breathed, "Only regret."

"Regret that you didn't die with her?" Cole guessed.

"No," Isabela replied, shaking her head. "Regret that I'm too selfish a person to join her in death like I told myself I would if she fell."

"It's not selfish to not want to die too," Cole told her. "It's that strength that got you this far, pirate lady. It's that strength that got you through everything that has happened in your life. You keep going."

"And what if I don't want to keep going anymore?" Isabela asked him. "What if the allure of power and gold doesn't have the same appeal to me now? What do I do then?"

"You stop going after it," Cole said, as though it were that simple. "You stop running away. There are other people who care about you, Isabela. You do not need to leave. They do not want you to leave."

"But it all means nothing to me without her," Isabela whispered, fighting but still managing to keep her tears at bay. She knew once she gave in to one that she'd immediately curse herself. Truth be told, she didn't know if she'd be able to stop once she had started. The thought was terrifying to her. It was like going against her very nature to cry, to succumb to something so weak. She felt pathetic.

"What if someone could take the decision of life or death out of your hands?" Cole suggested instead then. "What if you didn't have to make it? What if you simply follow the path you were going to take anyway before this happened?"

"What do you mean?" Isabela asked, turning to him in confusion.

"Technically you are officially still the Inquisition's prisoner," Cole reminded her. "You could demand a trial and leave your fate in the Inquisitor's hands."

Isabela considered this then. "Maybe you're onto something, kid. Either way I'm already dead."

She stared back up at the distance, scouring the sky with tear-filled eyes and exhaled, seeing her smoky breath in the night. The coldness cut through her like ice. Her whole body felt riddled with a sickness that she couldn't shake. She was exhausted. Her heart felt like it had been torn from her chest and replaced with a something heavy, weighing her down and suffocating her. Isabela didn't know how she could be feeling all this but still remain numb at the same time. Nothing made sense right now. She realised then that she was still standing here at the top of these stairs because she had nowhere else she wanted to go. It was over. Her adventures were finished. Hawke was dead. She was finally done running.

Isabela turned back to the kid then and put her wrists together, holding her arms out to him.

"Go and find the Inquisitor, Cole. Tell her to put me back in chains... I want to return to my cell."


	23. The Trial

Anger was a useful tool. Anger was direct and spiteful. Anger was an all-consuming, gut-swallowing, crunching emotion that Admiral Isabela found easier to accept as she lay huddled in a ball on the floor of her cell. It was better to be angry with Hawke, better to blame her. Better than Isabela admitting to herself how much she missed her, how much she longed for her, how much she loved her. No, she wasn't sad. Isabela was angry, or so she told herself. Angry that Hawke had continued to risk her life for a thankless world. Angry that the woman seemed to thrive on being the hero even though she was fucking terrible at it! Angry that Hawke always put herself and Isabela last when there was a world to be saved, and angry that said world had now swallowed Hawke whole and not even had the decency to spit out her bones.

Isabela had never been so angry in all her life.

Scarred, she couldn't forget the look on the Inquisitor's face as the elf put the chains back on her wrists that Cassandra had originally placed there. Ellana then reluctantly walked Isabela back down to the dark, damp cell that she had been so eager to escape from months ago. The Herald hadn't wanted to do it. She looked sickened at the thought, but Isabela insisted. Despite her being an Inquisition 'prisoner' convicted of double attempted murder of their Spymaster, Ellana visited her every day for the past two weeks she had spent down here. She left her cell unlocked, offering her every speck of food and drink she could find and dropping off some books in the hope that maybe disappearing into a story had occurred to Isabela to help her escape her grief just for a minute or two.

It hadn't.

Isabela couldn't remember that last time she had eaten. She wished desperately she could drink the fine ales and whiskeys that the Inquisitor had left beside her but she couldn't. A time may come for drinking herself into a stupor and drowning her sorrows, but right now Isabela wanted to feel it. She wanted to feel it all. Every single emotion that was running through her body. Everything that she had suppressed in the past. Every single selfish and unselfish thought, because she knew that in years to come if she survived her trial and looked back on this moment, that it would feel like she hadn't grieved enough. That none of it was enough...That she had never _been_ enough.

"It's time."

Isabela's head jerked up. Varric had finally found the strength to visit her.

"You came."

"Course I did," the dwarf replied, as if it were ever in doubt. "I admit I didn't want to see you like this, and I thought you'd prefer if I didn't see it at all, but I had to come eventually. You look like shit, Rivaini."

Isabela snorted and the two of them shared a rare laugh in such dark times.

"I feel worse," the pirate admitted. "It's pathetic, right? Look at the state of me."

"It's understandable. Though I'll admit, after everything we've been through together, I never thought you'd go out with this much of a whimper," Varric accused, sounding disappointed. "You've giving up."

"I'm not giving up, Varric! I'm just not running away anymore."

"Why are you doing this, Isabela? Ellana doesn't want to sit in judgement over you and none of us want to watch it happen...Well, maybe the nobles do, but we already know they're bloodthirsty bastards! They've been waiting to get their hands on you for years. Not Lavellan though. You're torturing the poor kid. She has enough to deal with."

"I know, but I don't know what else to do, Varric," Isabela admitted.

"Drink it off!" Varric suggested, wondering why the thought hadn't seemed to occur to her of all people. "Just like we used to! There was nothing back then that couldn't be solved with a bottle of The Hanged Man's finest and a good old fashioned bar brawl."

Isabela chuckled. "I can't. I just...I feel as though I have to let this happen," she said sadly. "I tried to kill Leliana, twice. I didn't tell her this, but I _would_ have done it, Varric. She crossed me too many times. She was lucky that Cullen and Cassandra were at hand to save her."

"I'm sure that was just a friendly disagreement!" Varric said, waving away her murderous revelation. "I've seen you do way worse! If Hawke were here she'd..."

His voice trailed off, and both he and Isabela's features returned to darkness.

"How is Bethany doing?" Isabela asked then. The image of the youngest Hawke chained to that chair, bruised and broken still hadn't been erased from the pirate's mind. She'd never forget such a pitiful sight.

"She isn't Bethany anymore," Varric sighed, leaning on the bars of the cell. "That demon has still got a hold of her. Little Sunshine's probably sitting on a rock somewhere in the Fade right now, regretting all of this ever happened."

"Promise that if this is the end for me you'll find that bastard Tadeus and introduce him to Bianca," Isabela said fiercely. "I'd do it myself if I had the strength. I know that amulet has something to do with him. He set me up. I'm just sorry that Bethany was the one to take the fall."

"He won't get away with this, I promise you," Varric agreed. "I already have my people looking for him. I'm telling you, soon he won't even be able to wipe his ass without me knowing about it." They both chuckled. Varric turned grim again then. "Is there seriously no way I can change your mind about this trial? Those nobles up there are more blood thirsty than in Kirkwall, and that's saying something. If they want you to hang for this the Herald will have no choice but to convict you. Losing the people will spell the end for the Inquisition if she doesn't."

"Then let her make that decision," Isabela replied simply. "I could escape from here in a second. You know that. Nobody could tie me down... but I'm done fighting, Varric."

Varric looked as though her wanted to shake her, hit her, yell at her, anything to make her remember who she was and that this wasn't like the real Isabela. Instead, he sighed in defeat. Hawke's death had really done a number on her. Grief was a heavy burden to bear.

"Well, we'd best be going, Rivaini. The great hall is packed with crowds of people. Your crew are here as well. I spotted a few of them mixed in with the nobles...Everybody is waiting for you."

Isabela dragged herself to her feet with her last ounce of strength.

"One more for the road?" she asked, holding up one of the bottles of whiskey that Ellana had left for her. Varric smiled as best he could and produced two shot glass from his coat pockets.

"I thought you'd never ask."

The dwarf opened the unlocked cell door and held out the tiny glasses in one hand. He filled them to the brim and set the bottle on the ground. Isabela took hers in her chained hands and together they held up their drinks in toast. Wallowing in a moment of calm before the storm, the two friends stared into each other's eyes, knowing they shared a similar pain and finding solace in it.

"To Hawke," Varric said tearfully.

"To Hawke..."

With a nod to the other, Isabela and Varric clinked glasses and shared their last drink together.

###

The nobles of the Inquisition were, as Varric had said, much worse than in Kirkwall. As the trial continued around her, Isabela knelt at the feet of the Inquisitor, covered from head to toe in rotten food, spit and all sorts of projectiles that had been hurled at her as she travelled the short distance through the crowded streets to Skyhold keep. Her infamous reputation had finally caught up with her. As she stared at the faces of each member of her crew hidden amongst the crowd, she felt like she had let them down. Jackson actually had to be restrained as he attempted a coup, and Isabela could see that he would still kill every person in this room to set her free. He always was loyal to a fault. She knew her legacy and The Eider's Cry were left in good hands. Jackson would make a great captain.

Navarre Mahariel, to Isabela's disappointment, never showed up at the trial. Isabela understood though. She couldn't blame her. It would have been foolish, putting her life in serious danger if anyone knew she was here. However, she did 'send' a letter that was read out by Josephine, where the Hero of Ferelden spoke out in favour of Isabela's release. As did other members in the inner circle of the Inquisition. Dorian, Leliana, Josephine, Varric...even the Iron Bull had kind words to say, despite the fact that he was Qunari and Isabela was public enemy number one to the ox men from Seheron. But none of it was enough.

Despite the Inquisitor's insistence that she didn't want to convict and Leliana's forgiveness for the crimes, the angry horde of nobles pressed their advantage. The most vocal and influential of them insisted that because these crimes were forgiven didn't mean that Isabela wasn't still a danger to society and the Inquisition. Some had even pigeon-holed her with Corypheus, claiming she was working as one of his agents. Rumours were dangerous things. Ellana shouted herself hoarse, trying to win them over from every angle, but she gradually lost the room. Isabela watched as she glanced desperately to Josephine for guidance, who shook her head in defeat.

It was over.

The Inquisitor got to her feet and the whole of Skyhold fell silent, the last of the heated debate dying out.

"Ladies and gentlemen, people of the Inquisition," Ellana began sadly. Isabela glanced up at her, meeting the elf's eyes and in that moment she knew her fate was sealed. "As Inquisitor, you all look to me to make the right decision," the Herald continued, staring back out at the crowds. "But the politics involved here disgusts me. If it were up to me Isabela would walk free. She's been punished enough! The Champion of Kirkwall is dead."

Surprised mutterings broke out in the great hall then, as this revelation hit them. Lavellan waited until they had died out before continuing:

"Unfortunately no matter who chose to speak for Isabela today, her fate had already been decided by those of you who have little to no idea of how hard it is to stand up here and make the decisions that affect all of Thedas, to risk your life for this bullshit! I can't believe I have to..."

The Inquisitor was interrupted by Josephine then, as her anger took over and she struggled to control it. The Ambassador stood in front of her, shielding her protectively from the audience, whispering something which couldn't be heard. Ellana dropped back onto her throne in despair. She was about to lose the Inquisition the influential noble support it needed to survive. Without these nobles, they would be nothing. Corypheus would win. But Ellana had been about to stray from the script. Clearly the Dalish elf was sickened that she had to make this judgement on behalf of heartless stuffed-shirts. Whatever she was about to say would have severely crippled the Inquisition.

Josephine took over, turning back to the crowd.

"What our Herald means, is that we recognise the decision has been made by the people," she continued in her strong Antivan accent. "Let us not prolong these unpleasant proceedings any further. Admiral Isabela, Queen of the Eastern Seas and Sharpest Blade in Llomeryn will be sentenced to death by hanging at first light on—"

Suddenly a crash at the back of the hall interrupted. The crowd gasped and everyone turned around to see what the disturbance was. An Inquisition Templar was fighting through the audience to get to the front of the great hall.

"Commander!" he yelled, trying to find Cullen, ignoring all the eyes on him. "Commander, you must come with me!"

"What has happened?" Commander Cullen demanded, as the Templar sunk to his knees beside Isabela trying to catch his breath.

"Sir," he breathed, "It's Lady Hawke..."

"We already know, Ser Davus," Sister Nightingale said sadly. "She's dead..."

"Begging your pardon, Nightingale. I speak not of the Champion of Kirkwall, but of the youngest...Bethany!"

Cullen strode towards him and grabbed him by his armor roughly, dragging him to his feet.

"What has happened, man!?" the Commander demanded from his Lieutenant. Isabela could see the concern in his eyes. He looked deranged. In that moment, her suspicions were confirmed. Bethany's secret crush beginning with the letter 'C'. The way Cullen had reacted when Bethany had succumbed to the demon.

 _He's in love with her._

"She's...She's..." Templar Davus seemed unable to comprehend it. He closed his eyes and shook his head, as though scarcely able to believe what he had seen.

"No," Cullen gasped, imagining the worst. "She can't have...She can't..."

Isabela's heart felt, if possible, even heavier. Cullen released the Templar and sank backwards, down onto the steps in front of the Inquisitor's throne in defeat. Isabela met Varric's eyes across the hall she could see the same despair in his eyes.

 _Oh, Bethany._

"No, sir," the Templar continued then, wide-eyed. Every head that dropped looked up at him expectantly. "Sh-She's alive...She's...Maker, she's come back to us, sir!"

Commander Cullen did a double take and shock registered on his face. Leliana made a noise that sounded like a squeak and Varric pulled his head out of his hand, recoiling as though he'd been given an electric shock.

"Wh-What?" Cullen asked in disbelief. "What are you talking about?"

The entirety of Skyhold held its breath.

"She's herself again," the Templar said breathlessly, managing to smile this time. His eyes welled up, overcome with emotion. "The demon is gone!"

###

Isabela was left kneeling in chains in the great hall as the rest of the Inquisition surged upstairs to Bethany's quarters to see the unbelievable truth with their own eyes. The crowd of nobles had been ushered outside by Inquisition soldiers and the trial had been called to a halt. Only after an hour or so, did someone finally return.

"It's true," Varric said, walking up behind Isabela and placing a friendly hand on her shoulder. "Somehow Sunshine has beaten the demon!"

"That's wonderful news," Isabela said heavily. "Did she say how?"

"She did, before she was knocked out. The Templars had to sedate her, she was distraught."

"About Hawke?" Isabela asked sadly. She couldn't help but think she should have been the one to tell Bethany that her elder sister and only remaining family member was dead, but she hadn't the strength to get back to her feet again.

"Yes," Varric said.

Suddenly his face broke into a smile.

"What's so amusing?" Isabela asked, wondering why he looked so happy.

"She's alive," Varric replied.

Isabela frowned. "I know she's alive, you just told me, silly."

"No," Varric chuckled, shaking his head. " _Hawke_ is alive! Or she was."

Isabela groaned. "Oh, go sleep it off, Varric. That's the meanest thing you've ever said to me."

"Rivaini!" the dwarf said louder, leaning down and grabbing her shoulders to give her a shake. He looked her straight in the eye, unblinking. "Hawke. Is. Alive!"

Isabela's frown deepened. "How do you know this?" she asked in disbelief, thoroughly confused. "You saw her die, Varric!"

"Actually, I didn't," Varric revealed. "None of us did. The last I seen of Hawke, she and Donnic were battling a massive demon to let the rest of us escape. We just assumed she was dead because we sealed the rift closed with her still inside. There never was a body."

"So she could be...? No…What makes you think she survived after all this time? You seemed pretty certain she was dead!" Isabela accused furiously.

"I was! This is unbelievable! Sunshine told me before they knocked her out!" Varric yelled happily.

"I don't understand. What does Bethany's reawakening have to do with Hawke?" Isabela demanded, frustrated at how cryptic he was being. It was the first time in their friendship she actually wanted to throttle him.

Varric rolled his eyes. "Maker's ass, Rivaini! I thought you were smart!" He laughed. "I haven't got all the details yet but, I shit you not, Bethany said she saw Hawke in the Fade. She spoke to her. It was Hawke who helped Bethany battle her demon and escape."

"What?!" Isabela was certain that he must have sampled every piece of alcohol in the tavern. There was no other explanation for this other than a sorry state of drunkenness. "Well, where is Hawke now? Why isn't she back here too?"

"I...I don't know. Unless...was it really her, or was it just a spirit?" Varric wondered then, second-guessing himself now. Isabela knew he was thinking about the spirit in the Fade that took on the shape of The Divine. Was it too early to get their hopes up? Isabela didn't fancy losing Hawke all over again. She couldn't even handle it the first time.

"Hawke couldn't arrive with Bethany," Leliana interrupted, re-entering the hallway and walking towards them. Her face looked flushed with emotion, but she was alert and focused. "Bethany wasn't physically in the Fade like her sister was. She returned here when she was freed because her body was here."

"So where is Hawke?" Isabela asked again. The comprehension of this was way beyond her skill set. She knew very little about the Fade and demons and all that bullshit. If this was true, it was an absolute miracle, and Isabela didn't believe in such things.

"We don't know," Leliana replied. "Bethany told us after Lana helped her said she was going to go try and find a rift in the Fade that might lead her back here. The one everyone else escaped from in Adamant Fortress was closed by the Inquisitor."

"So Hawke could be somewhere in Ferelden?!" Isabela demanded, jumping to her feet with some newfound energy pulsing through her. She grabbed the Spymaster's lapels. "Tell me, Leliana!"

"I-I'm not sure!" Leliana said, her emotions getting the better of her now. They had been thrown a lifeline in this extraordinary turn of events. It was hard not to get their hopes up. "The closest tears in the veil that are still open are on the Storm Coast. She might be there."

"Send out your scouts," Isabela ordered immediately. "Find her, Leliana! If she's fallen out of a tear in the veil that means demons are nearby as well. Balls, she's probably not even in any fit state to fight if she's alive."

"I'll go right away," Leliana said, releasing herself from Isabela frantic grip and turning Spymaster again in an instant. She took out a key and unlocked Isabela's chains without the pirate having asked.

"What are you doing?" Varric asked, confused.

"Varric, get her out of here. To the tavern for now. Hide her! These nobles will never give you a fair trial," Leliana said.

"Won't the Inquisition come after me?" Isabela asked, stunned.

"Honestly, all of us know this trial is bogus. It's just a formality that has to be followed," Leliana said, shaking her head. "Maker's Breath, if you hadn't insisted...but we understood why you did. If the nobles don't get their way, they become rowdy. They're desperate in the face of Corypheus and all that he stands for. But in a few weeks you'll be the last thing anyone thinks of, Isabela."

"Gee, thanks," the pirate said sarcastically. "If this is your idea of a rallying talk you need more practice."

"I am trying to save your life! You were throwing it away, blinded by your grief," the Spymaster said angrily. "Maker, Hawke might still be alive, don't you understand that? If there is a slim possibility that she is, wouldn't you like to be the one to find her? She'd do it for you!"

Isabela glanced at the dwarf, taken aback. "Well, that one was much better," she said, regaining her sense of humour slowly but surely. There was hope for Hawke. That was the best she could ask for this moment in time when all seemed lost.

"Go!" Leliana ordered, "Hurry! To the tavern! Stay in your room. Clean yourself up and be ready. Speak to no one. I'll notify you first thing when I hear back from my scouts."

Not needing to be told twice, Varric quickly helped the weakened Isabela down the great hall and out into Skyhold. They took the stairs up to the ramparts and took the top entrance into Skyhold tavern in order to been seen by no one but Cole. The kid smiled at them both as they passed, happy to see Varric helping someone in need. _Bless his massive hat,_ Isabela thought fondly, throwing him a grin. _He's not so bad, is he?_

As soon as they reached Hawke's vacant room, Varric helped Isabela over to the bed and closed the door behind them, sliding the lock across. The two of them sat silently in the semi-darkness, hearts thumping, waiting desperately in hope for some much needed good news.


	24. Death and Devotion

**_Slight POV change later in this chapter, but it is completely necessary to the story. You'll see..._**

* * *

Isabela's entire body ached to the core. She was in agony. This whole ordeal had completely shattered her, both inside and out. Her wrists bore shocking purple bruises from the heavy chains that had bound her, reminding her that she had been mere seconds away from hanging by the neck in Skyhold's square, serving as food for the crows. She rubbed them absentmindedly, wondering what the rest of her body looked like. If it was anything like how she was feeling then she dreaded to think.

It had been a lengthy, torturous few months without Hawke, and the last two weeks believing she was dead were the hardest Isabela had ever had to face. Yet despite this, she couldn't sleep. She couldn't even toy with the notion. Not until she had Hawke enveloped in her arms, alive and well. Until then, there would be no sleep. None at all. Not before she knew the woman she loved was safe. It was hard not to get her hopes up, but Isabela's shattered heart had begun to repair itself based purely off of hope. If Hawke wasn't miraculously alive after all of this...Isabela closed her eyes and willed the horses to get them there faster.

The Inquisition carriage rolled further north of Ferelden, towards the Storm Coast, hopefully bringing them closer to finding Lana. It was a rescue mission, but time had been against them from the get go. The horses pulling the carriage had gone without the necessary rests. As her companions slept around her in the cramped compartment, Isabela glanced at their peaceful features: Varric, snoring lightly, hugging a bottle of port for company; Bethany, looking as bruised as Isabela but insistent on coming to find her sister; Ellana, her head lolling to the side slightly as she dreamt; Dorian, gripping his staff tightly as though he didn't trust the world not to fall apart as he slept; Solas, the bald elf that seemed to know a lot about the Fade and offered to come along.

Then there was Navarre.

"Dreams again?" Isabela asked, seeing the Grey Warden had just woken up for the fifth time tonight, wiping a cool sweat from her forehead. She looked worn out. Isabela knew her blood was corrupted as a result of The Joining, but in the month they had travelled together she had never seen Navarre look this... _ill_. Maybe it was a Grey Warden thing, or maybe her real death wasn't too far away. Was the taint starting to claim her prematurely?

"I'm fine," Navarre replied stubbornly, although all evidence pointed to the contrary. "I can still hear Corypheus a little, that's all."

"You were talking in your sleep again," Isabela grinned tiredly. "Who or what is Tamlen? You kept saying it over and over."

Navarre's eyes became hollow then, and even in the dark Isabela knew instantly that she had said something wrong.

 _I'm going to need a shovel to dig my foot out of my mouth. Or I could just use it to dig a deeper hole for myself instead._

"Sorry," Isabela added then. "Forget I mentioned it. It's none of my business."

Navarre held a hand to her forehead and massaged her temples. "He's dead anyway."

"Well, people die," Isabela said heartlessly.

"True," Navarre replied, untroubled by the pirate's coldness and sounding as though she actually preferred it than overwhelming sympathy. "So be careful, Admiral. You're in danger of getting ahead of yourself here. I'm speaking from experience. Hawke might still be—"

"I know," Isabela interrupted, not wanting to hear it. She folded her arms under her massive bosom and stared out the carriage window.

"I held onto false hope that Tamlen was still alive during the Blight, and he was worse than dead," Navarre warned.

"I'm sure that's normally how these things work out," Isabela agreed. "But balls, if false hope is all I have to hold onto, then I'm going to strangle the life out of it, Navarre."

"Strangle away then," the elf sighed in defeat. "It won't matter in the end."

A few moments of silence passed between them as the carriage trundled along the dusty road. Isabela stole another glance in Navarre's direction, seeing that she was staring out the opposite window into the night, her eyes glazed over.

"Have you spoken to Leliana yet?" the pirate asked. "Not that I care, but I am curious that you came along to find Hawke. You don't even know her. Wouldn't you be better off back at Skyhold sorting a few things out?"

"No," Navarre said. "I saw her."

"And?"

"And the rest is none of your business, Shem."

"Fair enough," Isabela replied with a chuckle, pretending not to be intrigued by the subject. "Just thought you might like someone to talk about it with."

"You thought wrong then."

"Pfft, come on, Navarre. Cut the bullshit," Isabela sneered. "I'm trying to be your friend here, and I don't do that often. Last I looked you don't seem to have any." Navarre scowled at her, but couldn't deny she was right. Isabela rolled her eyes. "Whatever," the pirate sighed, staring back out the window and shaking her head. "Have it your way. The first time we met I wouldn't even have asked."

"In that case I miss the old Isabela," Navarre replied coldly.

Isabela sighed and stared out the window once more. _You and me both, sweetness._

The carriage started to pull over unexpectedly, and the rest of their companions jerked awake.

"S'matter?" the Inquisitor mumbled sleepily, her eyes still half closed. They all jumped out.

"Looks like we're setting up camp for the night," Navarre said. "The horses are waning."

"We don't have time for this," Isabela complained. "Hawke could be in danger right now! We have to keep moving. We're almost there."

"You tell that to the horses," the horse master yelled from the front of the carriage. "They won't budge another step."

"Screw it! Then I'm walking," Isabela declared impatiently.

"Isabela?" Bethany said weakly, huddled in the corner of the carriage still. The pirate reached in and touched her cheek.

"I'll find her," Isabela promised, "For both of us. Stay here, Bethany. Varric, look after her."

"You won't get very far," Solas called after her wisely as Isabela took off into the night. "The Spirits tell me the coast is littered with demons."

"I'm sensing Darkspawn as well," Navarre added. "This won't be an easy fight if it comes to it."

"It beats sitting around on my ass!" Isabela shouted back, continuing to walk away.

"Wait! Rivaini!"

Isabela ignored Varric's calls with great difficulty, but she couldn't sit around like the others and spend a relaxing night at camp. Hawke needed her. Suddenly Navarre appeared beside her, but instead of dragging her back, she fell into step by her side.

"I'll go with you," the Warden said, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the road.

"Why?" Isabela asked, confused.

"I guess I'm making up for an old mistake. If someone had allowed me to continue searching for Tamlen all those years ago, maybe I would have been able to save him before the Blight took us both."

Isabela was stunned. "Thanks," she said, understanding. Navarre wasn't doing this for her or for Hawke, she was doing it for herself, to atone. That was the kind of help that Isabela could accept. If Navarre had of been following her out of pity she'd have told her to turn back. The Grey Warden smiled.

"Besides, by the time they argue amongst themselves Hawke might have run out of time. We'll scout out up ahead and see what we're up against. The others can rest and track us in the morning."

"My thoughts exactly," Isabela replied. It was odd, but Navarre seemed to understand exactly the kind of impatience that was burning within her. Isabela just couldn't sit about and hope that Hawke was ok. She had to be out there doing something about it.

After a few hours her heart hammered excitedly. "We're not too far from the coast. I can smell the sea already."

The very thought seemed to give Isabela some form of inner strength then. She was near her home. The distant sounds of the ocean beckoned her with open arms, hopefully guiding her in the right direction.

" _Lathbora viran,"_ Navarre whispered in elvish, following Isabela into the tall grass, feeling the sand under her bare feet mixed with the soil.

"What does that mean?"

"Roughly translates as "the path to a place of lost love," Navarre smiled. "I don't know if it refers to Hawke or to the sea in this case, but I think you're on the right path."

"Here's hoping," Isabela chuckled.

They both navigated their way through the tall, damp grass in the dim light of the moon. They could only see each other's outlines as they made their way down to the beach. Navarre's eyes started to glow lightening blue then, until they were shining sapphires in the night. Isabela shielded herself from the glare with her hand.

"Navarre?"

The elf didn't answer.

"I know you're emotional," Isabela said. "You're bloody eyes are glowing like deep mushrooms."

"I'm not emotional!" the elf replied unconvincingly, though sounding as though she had a stuffy nose.

"You're a shitty liar," Isabela sniggered. "Look, if you've got something on your mind just say it. The others are gone. It's just me."

"You don't really want to know...Do you?"

"The suspense is killing me," Isabela said sarcastically. "Come on, spill it! What happened with you and Leliana?"

Navarre hesitated. "Mythal's poison, alright," she sighed, finally giving in. "I'll tell you...but it will be easier if I start at the beginning."

###

 _By the Creators!_ I watched with a deeply rooted sorrow, horrified as Admiral Isabela struggled through one last game of poker, upon hearing the news that the Champion of Kirkwall was dead. Isabela seemed lost, exposed, like she wasn't sure how to react to her lover's demise so she chose not to react at all. I could see deep into those entrancing amber eyes of hers, and I instantly knew her pain...I had lived her pain, many, many years ago.

The game finished rather anti-climatically. Isabela said nothing. She got to her feet and walked away, leaving her winnings on the table. Her Dwarven friend, the bearer of the bad news, called after her but didn't follow. As the tavern door slammed shut behind the pirate, the dwarf glanced at me through sad eyes and smiled as best he could.

"Varric Tethras," he introduced himself. "You must be the Hero of Ferelden."

"I am," I replied, "Navarre Mahariel of the Sabrae Clan."

"You know Merrill?" the dwarf asked.

"I did," I corrected. "If we speak of the same Merrill, although I haven't seen her in an age. I wasn't even sure she was still alive."

"Would you mind sending her a letter?" Varric asked. "She lives in a cottage nearby. She needs to know about Hawke. She was a friend."

I was taken aback. I'd only met this dwarf and he was already asking me a favour. He seemed to trust me with a task this important. _Strange...the dwarves I met in Orzammar weren't the trustworthy sort. Maybe Varric Tethras was from the surface. He certainly didn't seen afraid of falling into the sky._

"I...of course," I replied, stunned, more at my own generosity than his request. "What would you like me to write?"

"Anything," Varric said sadly. "Just make it sweet. Daisy's the sensitive type. I'd do it myself but, honestly, I don't even know if any of this is real."

"As you wish. I fear this isn't the best time for small talk. My condolences, Varric Tethras."

"Thanks," he said gratefully. "But you're right. For once in my life I don't really feel like talking. I think I'm going to call it a night."

He picked up Isabela's stuff and grabbed her untouched stein of ale, bringing it up the stairs with him, saying nothing more.

Alone now, I slid Isabela's winnings off the table and put them into my pocket for safekeeping. _She'll want these later. She's just upset._ I then took a sip of my own ale and pulled out a piece of black vellum and a calligraphy set. Quill in hand, I hesitated over the page, wondering where in the Creator's names I could start.

 _Aneth ara, Merrill,_

My mind went blank. I didn't know what to say. I was glad to hear that she was alive after all this time. Maybe we were the only ones left in the clan, but I hadn't seen or spoken to Merrill in over ten years. We weren't exactly close back then either. Tamlen and I only really saw her as the Keeper's First. She was treated differently. We were hunters, she wasn't. She used to irritate us. Maybe we could have been a bit kinder towards her, but that was just the way things were.

I decided just to keep the letter simple then.

 _Aneth ara Merrill,_

 _Hope you are well. I know it's been years. Unfortunately I write to you now with terrible news. Your friend Hawke has entered the eternal sleep. She is dead._ _Ir abelas, Lethalan._ _Varric Tethras asked me to inform you of her passing. Should you wish to respond, we will be at Skyhold._

 _Dareth shiral,_

 _Mahariel_

That would have to do. It was a bit cold, but then again so was I. I didn't know Hawke personally. It was strange to break the news of her death to, what I assumed, was a good friend. I had heard talk of Merrill living in Kirkwall when I looked up our clan after the Blight. I never did seek them out. It wouldn't have been the same without Tamlen anyhow, and I had Leliana to think about by that point.

 _Not to mention Amaranthine._

Pushing bad memories of that place aside, I rolled up the letter to Merrill and dropped hot wax on it, sealing it shut with an emblem of the Grey Wardens. Wondering where the pigeon coop was in Skyhold, I picked up my things and left the tavern. Once out under the starry night sky, I glanced up at the highest spires, looking for some sign of birds and wishing I could have just asked the local tavern girl for directions. I wanted to keep a low profile though. Not that anyone would maybe recognise me after all this time, but my Dalish tattoos were a bit of a giveaway. The only Dalish I knew of around these parts was the Herald of Andraste, and I clearly wasn't her. If anyone spotted the Griffons on my clothes all they had to do was put two and two together.

 _No. Better that I speak to no one._

Spotting a few ravens overhead, I noticed they were flying into the highest tower above the Keep. _That must be it. Now, how do I get up there?_ I glanced around the courtyard and spotted a set of white marble stairs that led up to what I assumed was the throne room. Making my way up I pushed open the heavy doors and, quietly as I could, I slipped inside. The great hall was massive, reminding me of Amaranthine, of my own throne room. I never did get used to it. It still felt strange to me being in doors, having lived all my life out in the woods. Strangely ironic too that the Shemlen had lorded over us for years, and then I found myself in charge of them. I wasn't ready for that responsibility back then.

Seated on the throne was a red-headed elf, who I assumed must be the Inquisitor. She seemed upset, and didn't see me. I took the first door to the right before she noticed and soon came face to face with another elf, bald this time.

"A Dalish," he greeted me, surprised to see another of his kind here. " _Aneth ara._ Are you part of the Lavellan clan?"

"I am not," I replied. "I'm part of the Sabrae clan...or I was."

"You must be the Hero of Ferelden, then," he said wisely. "Yes, I can sense the corruption in you."

"Charming. And who are you?" I demanded, angry at his presumptuous manner, and a little rattled at his ability to 'sense' my corruption. These were dark times. Trust was often misplaced, even among someone of my kind unfortunately.

"I am Solas, _Lethalin_. Forgive me, I meant no disrespect. Quite the opposite in fact."

"Indeed. Excuse me, Solas. I have some business to attend to," I said rather coldly. Never before had one of my own made me this uneasy so suddenly. I didn't know if he was Dalish or not, but I wasn't sure I liked him.

 _You don't even know him, Navarre. We said we were going to try and not judge people, remember?_ Listening to my conscience, I continued on up the spiral staircase towards what I hoped was the pigeon coop, and Solas went back to the mural he was painting on the walls.

A level above I reached a rotunda that housed a large library. I dodged the stares of a few curious Shemlen who were housed there and climbed more steps. Finally I reached the top of the tower. Ravens squawked overhead and the floor at the top of the stairs was covered in bird droppings. Dodging the obvious trap with dextrous moves, I managed to tiptoe across the landing without slipping. A lone desk sat by the door, full to the brim of correspondence. Curious, I leaned over and picked up a few, beginning to read.

 _L._

 _Venatori agents spotted in the Western Approach. Sandy out here. You pick the best spots for a vacation._

 _-H._

Strange...I read another.

 _L._

 _Hinterlands has sparked out of control again (excuse the pun.) Herald has arrived. Presence growing in the area._

 _-H._

I realised then that these seemed to be some sort of scout reports. The lack of names, the cryptic messages. To an untrained eye they seemed like simple correspondence. Intrigued, I picked up another.

"You are either very brave or very foolish to snoop through my desk, intruder."

I froze.

"Turn around," the woman demanded, as I stood with my back to her, a bear caught in a trap.

I knew that voice, though I hadn't heard it almost a decade. It sent shivers down my spine. I realised then that this was no simple pigeon coup. That these letters weren't just simple scouting reports. It was evidence of a spy network.

"I said turn around! Slowly."

Heart thumping wildly in my chest, I dropped her letters back onto the table. I swallowed hard. There was no escape. I hadn't expected this so soon. _I can't do this. Creators, help me!_ Finally and reluctantly, I turned to face her. In the light of a nearby lantern, I watched as Sister Leliana's anger transitioned into shock. I heard her gasp. She immediately clutched her chest. The goblet of wine she had been holding smashed across the floor.

"Navarre..."

My heart fluttered, hearing her say my name again after all this time. Her voice was barely a whisper. I felt as naked as I had the first time she stared into my eyes. I had to look away. I focused on the ground, shielding them in embarrassment as the dormant mana in my blood swirled around in them treacherously.

"It's been a long time," I replied coldly, finding it so difficult to speak. Leliana was as beautiful as the day she left, though older now. Seeing her face again after all this time, it felt like someone had kicked me in the gut.

"You could say that," Leliana breathed.

 _Biggest understatement of the Dragon age!_

I glanced up grudgingly, noticing her eyes were already ringed with red, as though she had recently been crying. _Maybe she's heard the news about Hawke? I wonder if she knew her._ Fresh tears were filling up then, and Leliana looked like she wanted nothing more than to run at me and lose herself in my embrace. I wanted to… _Creators above!_ There was nothing more that I wanted to do than hold her in my arms again, but for some reason my body wouldn't move. It wouldn't respond. My arms remained by my side and I stood staring at her helplessly, watching her succumb to her emotions.

Realising that I wasn't going to oblige, Leliana wiped away the tears that had escaped down her cheek and tried to pull herself together. Us meeting again was never going to be that simple. She walked past me towards her desk and began to shove the piles of correspondence into the drawer. Clearly she had been in a hurry and left them out forgetfully. She slammed the drawer shut.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" she whispered, when there was nothing left to distract herself with.

My glowing sapphires met her bright blue ones, instantly causing tiny stabs at my heart.

"I...I don't really know where to begin," I admitted foolishly.

Leliana couldn't argue, for clearly she didn't either.

"I'm… sorry about Hawke," I offered desperately, grasping for a topic to speak of. "Were you and she close?"

Leliana avoided my eyes. "Thank you. Yes, we were. I…I can't believe it. She's really gone."

"I never heard you speak of her before," I said.

"Hawke was from Lothering," Leliana replied simply.

"Oh..."

That didn't exactly expand on why. For some reason, Leliana shifted awkwardly. I gathered there was possibly more to it than that. _Or maybe it's just not a nice topic for her after her friend's recent passing._ I watched as she sank onto her chair and brought a hand to her forehead, distressed. This was probably too much for anyone to take in one day. I didn't know what else to say. She'd taken me completely unawares.

"I know you're angry with me," Leliana said softly, finally touching on the subject of us when she realised I wasn't going to.

My jaw clenched. I was never brilliant in these situations. Leliana had always been the more sensitive one of us. _Mythal_ , _I can't do this._ I opened my mouth to speak, and when nothing came out I gave up. I turned and walked towards the stairs.

"Please don't leave."

"You're one to talk!" I accused spitefully.

I stalled nonetheless, swallowing over the lump in my throat. I grasped the banister for support, taking a deep breath. Suddenly she was behind me. Her warmth was so inviting. I hadn't had contact with anyone since she left. It was as foreign as the first time she had touched me. I felt her hand on my arm, silently begging me to turn around.

"Don't!" I breathed harshly. "It hurts..."

She knew I meant her being this close. I had said the words to her once before during the Blight.

"Still? After all this time?" she asked sadly. She slid her hand slowly down my forearm and over my hand on the banister. "Look at me, Navarre...Please, look at me."

"Let go," I gasped, closing my eyes. I could feel the shape of her body pressed against my back.

"No...Not this time," Leliana whispered, burying her face in my hair affectionately. "Never again."

Feeling tears welling up, I realised I couldn't stand there any longer. _I should never have come._ I made to storm off but Leliana tightened her grip. She spun me around and pulled me back towards her. Our bodies were drawn together. I froze again, an inch away from her face. This time she rested her forehead against mine, nuzzling into it, determined to keep me close. Slowly, hesitantly, I reached up and pushed back her purple cowl, releasing her red hair. The flowery scent of it wafted under my nostrils and I felt breathless. _Andraste's grace..._ I ran my fingers through it. _Shorter than I remember_... It was getting harder and harder for me to stay angry at her now.

"This day is so surreal," Leliana whispered, shaking her head slightly against mine. "I can scarcely believe it..."

"Nor I," I agreed truthfully. "But here we are."

"I've missed you so much," Leliana gushed. "I don't know if I'm allowed to say that when I'm the one that walked out but..."

"I wish you hadn't," I said truthfully. "Everything fell apart when you did."

"I know," Leliana replied gently. "I never should have left you to go through that on your own, Navarre. It was all my idea. I'm so sorry."

"I made a mess of it. I-I didn't know what I was doing. All those people, almost the entire Arling...They're dead because of me!"

"Sshh," Leliana hushed, grimacing. "It wasn't your fault. It was The Maker's will, that's all."

"How can you say that?" I accused harshly, glancing down at her soft, pink lips, feeling her breath tickle my face. "You've changed, Leliana."

"I know," she admitted regretfully. "I'm not the same without you."

"Where's that compassion you had before? You're as cold as I am now."

"You were never cold, Navarre."

"Yes, I was," I disagreed. "I still am."

"Don't be so stubborn," Leliana accused breathlessly. "You came back to me eventually."

"Isabela made me," I admitted. "I didn't want to."

Leliana leaned back a little then. She reached up and traced my face with her hand, as though trying to remember, trying to believe. She looked like she was seeing a ghost.

"Maker...Is it really you?" she gasped, wide-eyed. She was trembling.

"All that you left of me," I replied bitterly, a pearl droplet sliding involuntarily down my pale cheek and across her thumb.

"Navarre," she sobbed, as the effect of my words hit her. "I'm sorry!"

"It's too late for sorrys..."

"No. NO!" Leliana cried as I pulled away from her again. "Stop!"

"Why should I?!" I asked, aggressively shaking her grip from my sleeve. My composure had finally broken, as had hers. We were openly crying in front of the other, exposing our reopened wounds.

Leliana sniffed. "You know why..."

My heart cracked as she repeated the words she had said to me in Redcliffe castle the night before the Battle of Denerim. I knew back then what she meant. I knew even more now. Before I could react, before I could respond or sling another accusation at her, she was in my arms, almost knocking me over with the force of her hug. Brick by brick, my walls came tumbling down, and my anger was crushed. The sobs punched through her and my arms finally did what they had been longing to do since setting eyes on her again. I wrapped them around Leliana tightly and she melted into my embrace. We stood there for what felt like an age, both as broken as each other.

"You were dead," Leliana said in disbelief. "How is this possible?"

Eventually she raised her head and her lips automatically found mine. They were hesitant at first, asking for permission, remembering, until suddenly they became more passionate and demanding. Leliana dragged me desperately into her and I backed her over to the empty desk, tasting the sweetness of her tongue on mine. There was a series of clicks on the way and her long chainmail corset slid off onto the floor. I sensed her feet leave the ground and legs wrap around my waist. Her entire body thrust in my direction, over and over, as she clutched at my threadbare jacket, dragging it down off my shoulders spilling my breasts over the top. The coins in my pocket that belonged to Isabela spilt noisily in every direction. I gently pressed her back, lying my weight down on top of her. Sliding my left hand underneath what little of her clothes remained, the back of my fingers traced along the inside of her thigh, teasingly working their way upwards. Impatient, she guided them between her legs, a soft moan of longing escaping her as I touched what I hadn't touched in so long. I closed my eyes and allowed the moment to take me, never wanting to be away from her again.

Half an hour must have passed. Maybe more. I didn't care that there were Shemlen on the floor below us, who could probably overhear everything: our conversation, our crying, our arguing, and now our lovemaking. Ten years without the touch of another was a long time. _Ten years!_ After Leliana, I hadn't so much as looked at anyone else...thought about anyone else... She was everything, the one that kept me going all this time, even though it might have been anger allowing me to cling onto her for this long. Anger was easier to feel than admitting she had hurt me, admitting she had consumed me...But none of that mattered to me anymore. None of that mattered. For in this moment, the one I had been dreaming of for an age...In this moment, I was finally whole again.


	25. Fancy Seeing You Here

_**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews/ messages so far! Really love hearing the reactions from you all! Hope you like the latest chapter. Sorry for any typos. I'm really tired and have been sick all week D: Ciao!**_

* * *

Isabela was stunned. She didn't really know what to say, and was ever thankful that she and Navarre were in darkness as they continued to walk along the beach in search of Hawke.

"So... you and Leliana have, er, made up then?" Isabela asked optimistically when the Hero of Ferelden had finished her story. She heard Navarre sigh.

"Goddess, I don't know," the elf replied, half laughing through her pain. She dexterously dodged a rather large crab that snapped angrily at her toes and flicked it into the sea. "I guess I took your advice without even thinking about it, shem."

Isabela laughed. "Sex is always a great way to avoid awkward conversations."

"Leliana obviously agrees," Navarre chuckled. "She initiated it, not I."

"She always was quite feisty. Did she bite you this time?"

"Isabela!"

"No sensual massage along your—"

"Stop."

"Not that sensual massages aren't lovely," Isabela continued relentlessly, "but in a dire situation like yours, you need to get straight to the point. Was she any good?"

"I swear—"

"What?" the pirate protested innocently. "You've been all but celibate for the better part of a decade, Nav! The least you can tell me is if it lived up to your elevated expectations."

"Suddenly wishing a whale would jump out of that ocean and swallow me up," Navarre groaned, massaging her head. "And don't ever call me 'Nav' again or I'll put an arrow in your eye." Isabela sniggered. "Anyway," Navarre continued, "How do you know my expectations were 'elevated'?"

"Sweetness, it's been _ten years!"_ Isabela said pointedly, shuddering at the thought. "Balls, I went six months without Hawke once and I cooked her up to be something else entirely in my head. Imagination runs away with you after a while. Plus the letters she writes me are filthy! More fuel for the fire."

Navarre snorted. "Not that yours needs fuelled. But it wasn't like that for me. Sex with Leliana was...Forget it. Can we stop talking about this please?"

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" Isabela complained. "Fine! I'll just chalk it down to 'room for improvement' then, shall I?"

"Ugh, if I don't tell you, you're just going to make something worse up aren't you?" Navarre grumbled.

"It's more fun that way," Isabela joked, picking up a rock and skimming it across the bed of ocean to their left. "You Dalish don't exactly scream 'sexual deviants' you know. Someone has to look out for your reputation between the sheets."

"Elgar'nan..."

"I'll make up something exciting, I promise! Don't you trust me?" the Rivaini grinned.

"Not in the slightest, shem."

"But I have first-hand knowledge of your talents, Navarre," Isabela teased, enjoying herself now. "It may have been a decade ago the last time we frolicked, but you left a ...hmm, lasting impression."

"I will stab you in your sleep," Navarre threatened, her eyes flashing dangerously. "We don't all like to boast about our conquests like you, Isabela. Besides, how I performed or Leliana performed is not what's bothering me."

"Then what is? Maker, I've never met someone so utterly depressed after having sex. It's...well, depressing!"

Navarre took a moment to sidestep a large clump of seaweed on the beach before continuing. "It's the fact that Leliana and I are eventually going to have to have the conversation that we avoided that's worrying me. It's now ten times more complicated."

"Why? How did you leave things when you were finished groping each other's grinders?" Isabela asked.

Navarre hesitated. She picked up a stone off the sand and tossed it into the oncoming tide, splashing them both slightly. "Er…nothing. I just kind of, grabbed my things and…walked out."

At this Isabela couldn't help but hold back her laughter. "You hit it and quit it!?" she sniggered. "Andraste's left tit, you really _did_ take my advice, didn't you? I'm like a proud mother over here!"

Her laughter seemed to embarrass Navarre even more.

"Isabela, I will knock you out and leave you here!" Navarre growled, her anger burning as much as her face.

Isabela didn't doubt her for a second.

"I'll bet, sweet thing. What are you going to do though?" she asked, quickly getting her laughter under control.

"I…don't know," Navarre admitted, shrugging. "For now, let's just focus on finding Hawke. I'll deal with my personal life when I get back to Skyhold."

"Good idea," Isabela agreed, getting back to the mission at hand. "Don't worry. I'm sure you'll think of some other way to avoid the conversation again."

"Here's hoping. Anyway I—Isabela, look!"

Isabela followed the faint outline of Navarre's arm, pointing towards something in the distance. It was a glowing green light, sparking violently and shooting out dark shapes onto the Storm Coast.

"That must be a rift!" Isabela exclaimed, having never really see one up close and personal. It was slightly terrifying, she couldn't deny. Feeling slightly sick she shouted, "Let's go! Hawke could be nearby!"

The two of them instantly broke into a run, drawing their weapons as they did so. Navarre began shooting arrow after arrow at the horde of demons that were spilling out. Isabela relished the first cut of her blade as the fight began, and she lost herself in the relishing thought that when it was over she would be one step closer to finding Hawke.

###

"That was too easy!" Isabela yelled triumphantly as the last of the demons fell. "Who's next?"

"I sense Darkspawn on the way," Navarre said, killing the last of her foes until it was only the two of them again.

"That was a rhetorical question," Isabela replied sarcastically, flicking the ectoplasm off her daggers. "I need to have a look around. Hawke could be here somewhere."

"Go, I'll hold the Darkspawn off until the others get here," Navarre ordered, taking another arrow and resting it against her bow in preparation for the oncoming trouble.

"Done! See you in a bit!" Isabela replied, running off. She glanced back over her shoulder as a horde of four Darkspawn Hurlocks came belting towards Navarre. In a split second the Grey Warden had released four arrows, each with perfect headshots and had taken out her daggers to engage another horde to her left. _Maker, I forgot how good she was!_ Suddenly Isabela spotted another group of Blighted creatures closing in from the right. She realised that no matter how good Navarre might be, she was out numbered twenty to one. _Damn!_ Doubling back, Isabela entered the fray again, and the Warden and the pirate continued the fight.

"What are you doing? Get going! I can handle this," Navarre responded, glancing over her shoulder as Isabela got her flank again.

"You can't," Isabela warned. "There are more on the way. I'll deal with this first. Let's dance!"

Hurlock after Hurlock came pouring onto the beach from every crevice imaginable. Soon they were joined by unknown mercenaries who charged down the hills of the Storm Coast towards their position on the bloodied beach.

"I hope they're friendly!" Isabela called, watching the mercs clash with the Darkspawn along with them.

"We can't keep this up forever!" Navarre yelled back. Both of them were covered in tainted blood and it seemed like the Darkspawn and demons were never ending. _There must be a passage to the Deep Roads nearby,_ Isabela shuddered, glancing at the endless stream of enemies. It was an absolute free for all in the craziest form.

"Alright, new strategy. HELP!" Isabela shouted, feeling a muscle tear painfully in her leg. She was immediately thrown off balance. Her left leg had seized up. Navarre moved to her side, still shooting arrows until she had none left. She wielded a dagger then, holding Isabela upright with the other arm. The remaining Darkspawn closed in, jaws gnashing hungrily. They were overrun. As the nearest Hurlock made to attack, Navarre shoved her aside and immediately beat it back, slashing its face in two. The others growled angrily.

"Go!" Navarre shouted to Isabela, pushing her away. "NOW!"

Not needing to be told twice, Isabela left her and limped to find safety, simultaneously parrying an oncoming attack with her blades and cutting off the fiend's head. She tripped blindly and found herself flat on her back in the darkness. She blacked out for a bit, and time seemed to stand still, before suddenly fresh battle cries could be heard in the distance. _The others!_ Isabela thought gratefully. _The more the merrier, I suppose!_ Afraid to be caught sitting on her ass, Isabela dragged herself to her feet. As she did so, something connected with her skull.

"Oof!"

She hit the sand again, feeling like her skull had been carved in two. Dazed, she glanced up through watery eyes and through the night she could see the outline of something running towards her menacingly. She was going to die. Her daggers were too far away. Just as she curled up and braced for impact, a rough hand reached down and dragged her to her feet.

"Get up, big tits. You're coming with us."

Isabela opened her eyes to find that it wasn't Darkspawn chasing her any longer, it was the mercenaries.

"To the Void with that! Get your hands off me," she snarled. "I need to help my friend!"

She tried to break free but more mercenaries closed in and one kicked out the back of her knee, causing her to buckle over. They squeezed her daggers out of her hand and she felt her jewellery being stripped away.

"Are you kidding me?" Isabela asked in disbelief. "You're going to mug me in the middle of battle? At least have the decency to kill me before you loot my body."

"We're not going to kill ya, sweetheart," the oldest and only female of the group replied gruffly. "We're gonna sell ya. You'll fetch a pretty price in Tevinter."

The other mercs laughed in amusement and Isabela found herself in chains. _Oh shit. Slavers!_

They hauled her to her feet and no matter how hard she fought, Isabela couldn't stop them from taking her. She felt a sucker punch to the face and heard her nose crack.

"Argh!"

The female merc who had hit her guffawed loudly. Isabela was dazed. Her head was spinning. Navarre was too far away to call for help and they were both exhausted from the fight. Knowing Navarre would come looking for her though, Isabela couldn't leave her without a trail. Footsteps would be hard to find in the dark and washed away by morning. She shook the blue bandana she always wore from her head onto the sand, and watched as the mercs trampled it as they led her away towards a ship on the harbour. It was the best she could do. Hoping to The Maker that the Grey Warden would find it and piece the puzzle together, Isabela looked up at the heavens then, praying that she wasn't on her way to becoming a Tevinter Magister's bitch.

##

"How nice of you to drop by."

Isabela raised her head from where she knelt among the numerous tightly packed slaves, as blood from her broken nose dribbled off the end of her chin. From a short way across the boat's crowded hold, a smiling face caught her eyes, one that she hadn't seen in what felt an age.

"Hawke?!"

Isabela buffeted aside the other slaves and flung herself into Hawke's chest, wrapping her chained arms around her neck and hugging her like she had never hugged anyone in her entire life. "Maker's Breath! Blood of Andraste! Oh, Hawke!"

Hawke's laughter was like music to her ears, a sound Isabela never thought she'd hear again. She could feel herself welling up with happiness despite the precarious situation they found themselves in. Isabela closed her eyes, savouring the moment she had been dreaming and longing about since Hawke's apparent death.

"You're alive!" Isabela whimpered, completely overwhelmed, kissing Lana's mouth, cheek and then neck over and over before burying her face there, breathing in the woman's familiar scent. Underneath the sweat, blood, and stench in the ship's hold, there was no longer a doubt in Isabela's mind. This was really Hawke, hers and only hers. She couldn't quite put it into words. The sheer emotional toil of the whole situation had rendered her speechless.

"Oy! Break it up, you filthy slatterns!" the female slaver yelled. Isabela instantly felt a stinging lash from a whip against her back and released Lana. As she buckled over there was a second and third, more powerful lash.

"Argghhh!" Hawke wailed.

She keeled over sideward onto the deck in front of Isabela, her face wrecked with agony. She had taken it straight in the face.

"Hawke!" Isabela cried.

Hawke's check had been slashed open by the tip of the whip, casting a long thin straight gash from just above her eyebrow to half way down her face. The Rivaini glared up at the guard, who had walked away laughing evilly. She noticed the bitch had her daggers and was now examining her massive golden neck piece from the loot on a nearby crate. _Get your filthy hands off it,_ Isabela cursed under her breath. The other slaves all bowed their heads as the slaver passed, afraid that they would be next for a lashing. _Bastard!_

Isabela turned back to Hawke and quickly made to see if she was ok. "Shit...Come here. I've got you."

Hawke's arms were chained behind her back, making her unable to do much more than rest her head on Isabela's shoulder, as the pirate straightened her into a sitting position. Isabela then sat against a wooden column for support and allowed Hawke to lie her head back on her chest. Carefully, Isabela cradled Lana's face in her right hand, tilting her head upwards, trying to get a better look at her. Staring down into the soft chocolate-brown eyes of Lana Hawke having never thought she would ever do so again, Isabela felt a familiar, comforting warmth caress her insides that she hadn't felt in such a long time. It was like a hot drink on a chilly day. A shot of whiskey on an empty stomach. Love sometimes crept up on you that way, usually in the strangest of moments.

 _Like this one..._

Isabela brushed away a tear the escape down Hawke's cheek. Lana's face was a mess. There didn't seem to be an inch of her that wasn't bruised purple and blue. Dried blood was caked around her nostrils and her lips were cracked and dry, indicating that she, like the rest of the slaves here were dehydrated. Maker knows how long they had been down in this cold, dusty hold.

"Isabela," Hawke breathed, seemingly as taken in by the reunion as she was.

"Miss me?" Isabela teased.

"I…I never thought I'd see you again," Hawke croaked, shaking her head in disbelief. "H-How did you find me?"

"I didn't," Isabela chuckled. "We tracked you to the Storm Coast, but I got caught just like you did."

"We?"

Isabela nodded. "The Hero of Ferelden and I. Varric and the others weren't long behind us. We were held up by Darkspawn and demons, but I went searching for you alone. That's when I got caught. I had hoped that the others would follow us, but now that we're at sea it will be hard for them. It's up to us."

"You found Navarre?" Hawke asked interestedly.

Isabela nodded. "She's still her bitter little self, although with a little less prejudice these days. Rather charming now actually."

"Maybe I'll finally meet her," Hawke replied.

"Here's hoping. There's a lot you don't know though. You've been gone long time."

Hawke sighed. "I know…There's a lot you don't know either. Donnic's dead, Bela."

Isabela ignored the dull pang of sadness for Aveline and baby Hendyr and kissed Hawke's hair. "There'll be time for talking later, sweetness. Let's not do it here."

"Damn, slavers," Hawke cursed, wincing as Isabela touched the gash on her cheek, trying to stem the blood it was oozing. "I fell out of the fade rift into a massive horde of demons. I managed to take them out but…Maker, I must have passed out. Next thing I remember I was lying on the beach with the tide washing over me, being woken up by those cretins."

"That explains the sand," Isabela said, wiping away a few granules from Hawke's dirty undershirt. It was the only thing she had on, accompanied by her usual dark purple breeches which were almost unrecognisably dirty and torn in places. "What happened to the rest of your clothes?"

"Bastards must have looted my body before they woke me," Hawke grunted, "I woke up with nothing. Shame. I loved that green jacket."

"Don't worry, well get it back," Isabela assured her. "Along with our weapons. I was rather attached to those daggers myself. Not to mention that neck jewel."

Hawke's breathing became stilted then and her head dropped a little. Isabela shook her to keep her conscious.

"Stay with me," she said, kissing the side of her head. "If we're going to get out of here I'll need your help."

"My left ankle is broken, Bela," Hawke winced, "I'm afraid I'm not going to be much use and once they find out they'll surely kill me. A slave who can't walk won't fetch them much coin, even in Tevinter."

Isabela glanced down at Hawke's foot, which was dangling at an awkward, sickening angle. She hadn't noticed before.

"Balls," the Rivaini cursed, fighting the urge to vomit. "That's going to make this all the harder."

"We've faced worse odds," Hawke chuckled amidst her obvious pain.

Isabela tilted her head in consideration. "Good point."

"How's my face look?" Hawke asked. Isabela glanced down at her.

"Hmm, still beautiful, but that cut is definitely going to scar," she said grimly. "I'll take you to Bethany once we get off this ship. Maybe she can help."

"She's alright?" Hawke asked eagerly, clutching Isabela's arm a little tighter than before.

"She's fine," Isabela smiled, patting her hand to reassure her. "She is herself again. The demon is gone."

"I know, I killed it," Hawke grinned smugly.

Isabela chuckled. "You can tell me all about it when we're back in Ferelden Let's just focus on getting free."

"You have a plan?" Hawke asked eagerly.

"I do," Isabela said grinning down at her. "How impartial are you to being whipped again?"

"Er, I could do without it!" Hawke said warily. "Why?"

"Kiss me," Isabela ordered.

"What?"

"Kiss me, dammit! And make it a good one this time."

Without waiting for a response, Isabela leaned down and took her unawares, kissing her with such passion that a few other slaves around them began to mutter. Isabela pressed Hawke down onto the deck in a way that would be deemed inappropriate even in many brothels, putting on a show that was sure to catch the attention of the passing merc. As much as she was keeping an ear out for them, Isabela couldn't help but lose herself in the moment. She could feel that same eagerness from Hawke despite her injuries. They'd have to continue it later though.

"Oy!"

There was a scattering of movement as the other slaves withdrew from the scene, and Isabela heard the heavy boots of the she-male mercenary approach. As soon as the pirate felt a rough hand on her shoulder to drag her off, she spun around and swung her chained hands at the woman's midsection with all the strength she could muster. The merc yelped in pain and collapsed onto her knees, within reach of another punch to the face this time. She hit the floor and Isabela wrapped the chains the bound her around the woman's neck and pulled them tight, strangling her mercilessly. As she struggled, Isabela held on, seeing the shocked, scared eyes of the others slaves watching fearfully.

Finally, the female merc went limp.

"That's for breaking my nose," Isabela snarled, spitting on her corpse. She pushed her dead body to the side and immediately retrieved her daggers and neckwear, putting them back on. She dragged the frayed, dark green coat off her that belonged to Hawke and threw it over Lana's broken, freezing body to keep her warm then got to her feet.

"Nice work," Hawke said, smiling up at her. "Who doesn't love good old asphyxiation every now and then?"

Isabela winked, her hands on her hips as she concocted the next step. "Stay put, gorgeous. I think it's time I turned this ship around. Oh, how I have missed life on the high seas! No one messes with the Queen."

The surrounding slaves began to chatter excitedly then, a few even getting to the feet, answering Isabela's rally. Hawke smiled proudly and amusedly as she watched the Queen of the Eastern Seas strut up the hold of the ship. She was gradually accompanied by an army of would-be slaves, all of them ready to stage a coup against their capturers and commandeer the ship, turning it back towards Ferelden.


	26. Long Awaited Reunions

Denerim tavern: where the nobles and high-born dwelled in their spare time, shaking off the rigours of wealth, while gossiping, and running down the little folk in a place that they knew would always deny them entry. The richest men and women in the country lounged comfortably, sprawled egotistically over luxurious settees and pouffes, wearing fine suits and beautiful dresses, the best that coin could buy. They were served the finest ales and spirits, not to mention the best quality of food this side of Orlais. The high-class establishment was a haven from the poor, shielding the eyes of the influential from the horrors outside its walls, breeding ignorance and a feeling of relative safety.

This evening however, all that was to change.

The King of Ferelden swung open the door and crossed the threshold accompanied by the unlikeliest assortment of people imaginable: a blood-covered, half naked pirate, a bruised hop-along Champion of Kirkwall, a famed Dwarven author, the mysteriously illusive Hero of Ferelden, the Inquisitor and Herald of Andraste, and an apostate, would-be bloodmage that bore all the markings of recent demonic possession. Denerim tavern's nobles fell completely silent at the sight. The minstrels in the corner halted mid-song, their instruments hitting bummed notes on their way out and drawing everyone's attention to the tavern's newest patrons. A woman actually fainted dramatically with stress.

The pipe smoke in the air twisted artistically, forming curls in the dimly-lit pub as this mismatched posse strode inside like they owned the place, full frontal and unforgiving. The provocative pirate lady approached the bar with a sexy strut that drew the stares of the men, and scanned the walls, where every hue of amber and sliver liquid was on offer, lined up on shelves in range of price to strength. As her companions slid into the nearest free booth (which had been quickly vacated by an intimidated young woman and her betrothed), the Admiral raised a finger to get the serving wench's attention, but realised she hadn't noticed there were new customers. With a sly grin, Isabela glanced over the counter to the right to watch her scrubbing the floor, and cleared her throat to get her attention.

"Oh, another sailor!" the woman replied sourly, getting to her feet upon Isabela's self-announcement. "Here I thought I'd only have to deal with the men hitting on me in this place."

"I haven't hit on you...yet," Isabela flirted, amused.

"You were thinking about it though," the woman challenged with her hands on hips. "I tell you, the amount of times I've heard 'Nice legs, darling, what time to they open' in this place, I could write a book."

"Classic!" Isabela chuckled. "But believe me, sweet thing. If I was to hit on you, you'd know about it by now. I'm not that subtle."

"Fair enough. What can I get you then? Since you're clearly not interested in me."

The wench seemed rather affronted that Isabela didn't seem to desire her.

"Didn't you used to work in The Pearl?" Isabela asked, recognising her face now that she was no longer staring at her ass. _Although I think I recognised that too._

"Used to, darling," the woman replied, dusting some glasses with a dirty dish rag now. "Nobleman who used to come visit took a fancy to me and got me a job here instead. Said seeing me on a daily basis 'raised his morale'."

"Among other things, I'll bet," Isabela grinned, scanning her cleavage pointedly.

"You mind! Stop staring at my breasts!"

"In my defence, they were staring at me," Isabela joked.

"Did you want a drink, love? Or did you just come here to drool?" the angry barmaid asked bluntly, slamming the now even dirtier glass down on the counter.

"Does a bear shit in the woods?" Isabela chuckled. "I'll take a room for the night, and bring us four bottles of your finest whiskey with..." she glanced over at the table and began counting heads. "Seven glasses and hot meals."

"Please!"

"Thank you," Isabela replied instead. "Stick them on the King's tab...Oh, come on. Don't act like he doesn't have one."

Isabela walked away laughing, as the now even angrier barmaid got to work. _I'll have to remember to check my bottle for poison. I should really stop pissing people off who handle my food and drink._ The Admiral placed herself down beside Hawke, who had chosen one of the larger settees to lie down on, her broken leg stretched out straight, supported by bandages and two wooden splints. She looked worn out and in this light her injuries seemed more severe. However, the Champion of Kirkwall was in as good a spirits as ever.

"Grab me my winnings there, will you, Bela?" Lana asked, tossing her royal flush onto the table to the collective groan of the others.

"You started playing without me?" Isabela complained, scooping up a handful of coins and shoving them into Hawke's pocket. "No wonder Hawke's winning."

"She cheats just as much as we do, Rivaini," Varric laughed. "I'm starting to reconsider how great it is that she's back."

"Hey!"

Bethany giggled as her elder sister reached over and slapped him across the back of the head.

"Blood of Andraste, I've missed this," Bethany smiled contentedly, as the barmaid brought them each a bowl of stew and their drinks. They all tucked in ravenously. "It seems like forever since we all sat around a table and played cards, getting drunk and scaring the nobles."

"Some would say we did it a little too often, Sunshine," Varric chuckled, pouring them all a drink. "Nice to have everyone back in the land of the living again though, don't get me wrong."

"The land of the living where we have an invincible God on the loose and red lyrium popping up in every corner of the world," Hawke joked, downing her first shot of the night.

"Touché," Varric replied gravely. "Let's enjoy these drinks while we can then. They could be our last."

The two of them clinked glasses and tipped another down their throats.

"Why couldn't we just have gone back to Skyhold?" Navarre grumbled huffily, glancing around the tavern with a deep frown and looking extremely uncomfortable. The nobles were nudging one another, some even pointing at her and whispering. The younger ones were craning their heads over the crowds to get a better look. She was a legend in these parts after all. Many had been there to witness her slaying the Arch Demon. "Mythal, I always hated when they stared. They're obsequious. I've seen enough of Denerim to last a lifetime."

Suddenly a little girl with curly black hair and a fine silk dress approached the table nervously.

"E-excuse me, miss," she said to Navarre, wide-eyed and awed. "M-might you be the Hero of Ferelden?"

"No!" Navarre replied roughly, stamping her foot at her in chase. The little girl squealed and scurried away terrified. The others couldn't help but laugh. The expression Navarre wore showed her dislike of all the attention she was getting. Hawke could relate. Often the nobles in back Kirkwall made her feel the same way. It wasn't nice being the object of their infatuation.

"As great as it is to see you all again," Alistair began, "I don't think Navarre should be out in the open like this, not with Corypheus' spies everywhere...and little girls that she can scare the life out of." Everyone laughed again, apart from Navarre who scowled at the King. "You should have stayed in hiding, as should Hawke," Alistair told her. "The less people know you're alive the better."

"It wasn't their decision, Your Highness," the Inquisitor interjected quickly before Navarre bit his head off. "I ordered Isabela to set sail for Denerim after she freed the slaves on that ship and rescued Hawke."

"Thank you for doing that," Alistair said sincerely. "If there is slavery in Ferelden I should like to know about it. Anora won't be happy when she finds out, especially after what happened with the Mages in Redcliffe."

"No problem," Isabela said with a wink, "Not that I had much choice, mind you. Hawke and I would have ended up in Tevinter otherwise. Look at us, we'd make terrible slaves!"

"Speak for yourself. I was planning on selling my Magister's loot for profit when he wasn't looking and living off the land," Hawke joked.

"Balls, why didn't I think of that?" Isabela sighed, seemingly regretting her decision to rescue them now. Their companions laughed.

"They did a great service," Ellana agreed, "But there was another reason for me coming here, Your Highness. I sent a few of my companions with the news that I was heading to Denerim. I needed to speak with you in private as per Ambassador Montilyet's instruction. Your Uncle Teagan has rather become a thorn in the Inquisition's side."

"Please, just Alistair is fine," Alistair said quickly, blushing under the weight of his title of Your Highness.

"Pfft, you haven't changed, I see, Shem," Navarre snorted derisively. "Still shirking authority that is rightfully yours."

"Still got that smart mouth, Navarre?" Alistair replied coldly. "I thought Leliana would have put a stop to it by now. Oh wait, she didn't stick around long enough after the Blight, did she?"

Navarre jumped up and went for him across the table, but was immediately restrained by Ellana and Isabela.

"You're lucky you still have some women to hide behind, Alistair," Navarre countered, trying to free herself from said gender. "Go crawl back under Anora's petticoats, just as you did with Wynne's."

"Wynne's dead!" Alistair growled, jumping to his feet now as well. "I'll not have you tarnish her name like—"

"Maker, there something we don't know about you two?" Hawke asked with a perplexed chuckle, glancing from one to the other bewilderedly, as though the entertainment of the night had just started.

"Lethalan, sit!" Ellana ordered Navarre. "We don't want to draw any unwanted attention to ourselves."

"I think _that_ ship has sailed," Isabela joked, eyeing the nobles pointedly, all of whom were watching them now. The minstrels had stopped playing again. Isabela straightened Navarre's rumpled jacket and gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder to calm her. "Little early for bar brawls, Nav. You're not nearly drunk enough yet. Sit and I'll pour you another whiskey."

A muscle in Navarre's jaw twitched as she continued to glare in Alistair's direction.

" _Ma nuvenin_."

Reluctantly Navarre took a seat and accepted the shot Isabela thrust into her hand.

"You should apologise to the King," Ellana ordered.

" _Tel'abelas, Da'len!_ " Navarre snarled at her Dalish companion.

"I don't care if you're not sorry!" Ellana argued back in the common tongue. "You're here on behalf of the Inquisition and we cannot afford our relations with the Denerim to be sullied. Half the nobles are watching, Mahariel. Josephine will have my head when we return to Skyhold!"

"He's King of the Shemlen, Inquisitor, not of us," Navarre replied smartly. "Not of the Dalish, but... if it pleases you," She turned to the King. "I _apologise,_ Alistair. For now."

"Oh, just old friends catching up," Alistair accepted lightly. "Nothing to worry about, Herald. Navarre and I never could have a conversation without arguing."

"That's because you're a persistent little...I mean, sorry, _Your Highness,_ " Navarre said sarcastically, accompanied with a fake smile this time, mocking niceties.

"Ancestors, with a poker face like that is it any wonder Hawke's winning?" Varric chuckled.

" _Ma serannas,_ " Ellana said bluntly, with a glance from Navarre to Alistair, "Anyway, can you speak to your uncle, Alistair? He's causing a great stir amongst the nobles. The Inquisition needs support against Corypheus, not contempt amongst our followers."

"I'll see what I can do," Alistair said, his eyes still locked with Navarre's. "But Teagan's become a lot bitterer in his old age. He's—"

"Alright, alright, enough business!" Hawke interrupted, swinging her broken leg off the chair and straightening up. "I didn't fight my way through the Fade and fall out of a blasted rift to come back for politics. I have a snapped ankle, a whip slash down my face, a bruised backside and I want nothing more than to get disgustingly drunk and wake up lying face down in the gutter with no pants!"

"Here! Here!" Varric and Isabela toasted, raising their glasses.

"Bethany, deal us another hand!" Hawke demanded, helping herself to more whiskey.

"Why Bethany?" Isabela complained, reluctantly passing her the cards.

"Because _she_ doesn't stack the deck," Hawke replied accusingly.

The others laughed, and the tense atmosphere at the table lessened slightly. Bethany kissed her sister on the cheek and immediately began to deal them in.

Within a few hours the whiskey was flowing (along with several ales that had been purchased as well) and the pile of coin in the middle of the table could barely be seen through the smoke from Varric, Hawke and Isabela's pipes.

"Damn, that barmaid has some booty!" Isabela said, exhaling a plume of smoke as she spotted the woman walking through the rowdies again. "We should play strip poker, Hawke. You can strip her, and I'll poke her."

Laughter filled the table.

"Two on one?" Varric said, "Now how's that fair?"

"We don't play fair, Varric. You know that by now," Hawke joked.

"Indeed. Sneaky buggers we are. I'm always that finger down your spine when the lights go out," Isabela teased suggestively.

"Well, there goes my relaxing night's sleep," Varric laughed. The other joined in.

"Oh, full house!" Hawke shouted. She slapped her cards onto the table for the millionth time this evening, getting fresh groans from her companions as she scooped up more coin. "At this rate the whores will be on me tonight."

"Oy!" Isabela warned, as the other chuckled. "I haven't seen you in months, sweet thing. No cheap hooker is going to get their claws into you before I do."

"Ooooo!" Varric swooned, "You're for it now, Hawke! The Void hath no scorn like a pirate deprived of sex!"

"Tell me about it. Not all these scars are from battle you know," Hawke teased, throwing him a wicked grin.

"Ugh, you're such a wretch!" Bethany complained, cringing.

"Sorry, sis," Lana chuckled. _Too much information. Again._

"So, Hawke," Ellana began, "Are you ever going to tell us what happened back in the Fade? The last we saw of you, you were battling the biggest demon I've ever set eyes on! We all owe you our lives!"

"Oh, Ellie," Hawke grinned drunkenly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Ellie, Ellie, Ellie! Let's just say I'm glad to be back here with you fine people and a pocket full of coin like the good old days. I have no desire to speak of that place ever again."

"You've just spoilt my next book, Hawke," Varric complained, "It's not a good story unless the Hero dies at the end. It's just boring then!"

"Tell me about it," Navarre interjected, "If I'd have died at the Arch Demon's feet it would have saved me the trouble of going to Alistair and Anora's wedding. Talk about awkward!"

Everyone at the table laughed loudly and Alistair shook his head at his fellow Warden.

"Thank you, my friend," he said sarcastically.

"Did you ever crack that nut?" Isabela wondered.

"Or is Anora still wearing her chastity belt?" Navarre joked.

Fresh drunken laughter brought Alistair's face to blush, but even he managed a smile eventually.

"Poke fun all you want, Navarre, but the Queen and I helped you out as best we could when you were a struggling Warden-Commander of Amaranthine," he reminded her.

"You're right," Navarre said, seriously now. " _Ma serranas,_ old friend. You did me a great many favours in Amaranthine." She clinked her mug of ale against his, sending some slopping over the sides.

"Aw, I preferred it when you two were arguing," Isabela said disappointedly. "I had my coin on Navarre! It's been ages since I had a good bar brawl."

"What are you talking about? Didn't you try to kill Leliana and Cullen not too long ago in a bar?" Navarre asked. "That was how you got tasked with the job of finding me, wasn't it?"

"What?!" Hawke exclaimed, choking on her whiskey and glancing from Isabela to Navarre in confusion. She still hadn't heard anything that had happened since she had been declared dead. Everyone stared at each other awkwardly then, while the Hawke sisters felt like they'd been left out of something major.

"Shit...Er, I'll tell you about it later, Hawke," Isabela said evasively, placing a hand on her thigh. "Let's just have a nice drink with everyone. Like I said before, there's a lot you don't know."

"But—"

"Poor Donnic," Varric said sadly, changing the topic tactfully. "Just how are we going to break the news to Aveline that another of her husbands is dead?"

"She really does have rotten luck with men," Isabela sighed, jumping at the chance to stop Hawke from prying about Leliana. Lana still looked confused, trying to piece two and two together with information she didn't have.

"He was a good man," Bethany added regretfully. "She seemed to really love him. It's a shame Baby Lana Hendyr is going to have to grow up without a father now. I must write to Charade later and tell her what has happened. She told me Lana's crawling and talking now. She's growing up so fast."

"Good idea," Hawke agreed. "Tell her we'll be visiting pretty soon as well."

"Will we?" Isabela asked, surprised. "I thought you wanted to stay in Skyhold and continue playing the hero."

"No," Hawke sighed, staring down at her hands with a faraway look in her brown eyes. "I'm done, Bela. I just...I just want to spend some time with my family. I'm lucky to even be here." Isabela breathed a sigh of relief and placed a tender kiss on her cheek. Hawke smiled at her and then took Bethany's hand, stroking it gently, her other arm resting around Isabela's midsection. "I let both of you down when I stormed off that night in Skyhold," she said glancing from one to the other. "I won't do it again, I promise."

"No, you won't," Isabela warned. "Because I'll kill you if you do."

"Didn't you hear, I'm already dead!" Hawke chuckled.

Everyone laughed.

"Being dead does have its advantages," Navarre agreed. "You'll have to get yourself a nice tomb like mine to make it believable though."

Hawke looked a little chagrined. "Yes, you had us all fooled with that one," she said rather coldly, remembering seeing the tomb back in Weisshaupt and Leliana's tears as she prayed over it. "How _did_ Sister Leliana react when she saw you again?"

Navarre glanced at Isabela awkwardly, wondering why Hawke's tone had changed from the joking one before, then cleared her throat. "Em, we haven't really...spoken yet. She was crying over you when I arrived, see."

"Well, losing someone you loved will do that to you," Hawke replied bluntly.

"Loved?" Navarre repeated, taken aback. She glanced at the others questioningly then, all of whom avoided her eye. "What do you mean loved?"

"Balls, would you look at the time!" Isabela blurted loudly, jumping to her feet. "Alistair, you and the Inquisitor have business to discuss! And Maker, I planned on having sex tonight!" She lifted an incapacitated Hawke up into her arms before she could protest. Bethany and Varric jumped to their feet as well then and made noises of agreement.

"Yes, yes, it is getting rather late!" the dwarf exclaimed.

"I think I'll go book a room for myself before they become unavailable! Night all!" Bethany scurried away.

"What do you—?"

"Good night!" Isabela called, walking away hurriedly with Hawke in her arms as the Hero of Ferelden began to ask questions. "See you in the morning!"

"Wait a minute!" Navarre barked after them.

Isabela rounded the corner in the tavern and rushed up the stairs so that they were out of earshot.

"Phew!" she breathed. "Close one!"

"What in Andraste's name was all that about?" Hawke asked her, fiddling with Isabela's hair at the nape of her neck as the pirate carried her to the bedroom at the end of the hall.

"What do you think?" Isabela chuckled. "Navarre doesn't know that you and Leliana have a history together, and you all but blurted it out in her face."

"Didn't you tell her when you met her?"

"It must have slipped my mind," Isabela joked. "How would that conversation have been helpful?"

"Well, she's going to have to find out eventually," Hawke said, bewildered.

"Is she?" Isabela countered. "The poor sod hadn't seen Leliana in a decade, Hawke. The last thing she would want to hear about is how you and Leliana had been knocking boots in Lothering. It happened so long ago, before they'd even met."

"Oh, I suppose you're right," Hawke chuckled. "I guess I spoke without thinking. I could take her though, right? Navarre?"

Isabela sniggered. "I think that'd be an interesting duel, you know. The Warden versus the Champion! Should I set it up?"

"Only if you want one less Grey Warden in the world," Hawke snorted. "I still haven't forgiven her for breaking Leliana's heart like that, pretending she was dead all these years."

"Forget about it, Hawke. It's none of your business."

"Maybe not, but I have very loose lips as you well know."

"Well, I'll tell you what," Isabela began seductively, "Let's put those lips to a better use, shall we?"

"You read my mind," Lana grinned mischievously.

Isabela barged open the door to their rented room and kicked it shut behind them. She placed Hawke gently on the four-poster bed, giving her a look that was all love with the right hint of softness, a crease at the corners of her amber eyes as she threw Hawke her favourite crooked smile.

"You know, I've had so many wet dreams of late about you," Isabela teased, lying down on top of her, their faces inches apart. "How about we make one a reality?"

Hawke smiled. With Isabela's warm breath in her ear, she quivered, feeling the pirate nibble her lobe. Her whole body was alive with excitement. Isabela glanced down at Hawke's lips, wetting her own in anticipation.

"Think you can handle it, sweetness?" the pirate flirted, knowing Hawke's body was in bits but eager nonetheless.

"For the most part. As long as I have a face, you have a place to sit," Lana joked.

A cheeky grin spread across Isabela's face. She closed the last bit of distance between them and her mouth found Hawke's. Her heart instantly came alive, thumping wildly in her chest. Their kiss was rough and passionate, breathtakingly intense as they made up for lost time and lost lives. Hawke's head felt ready to explode. She was vaguely aware of Isabela's right hand as it traced its way blindly up her waist, her abdomen, then her breast, kneading it gently in a circular motion before sliding under her shirt and taking it in her grasp, thumbing her nipple playfully. Hawke moaned prematurely. They hadn't even gotten to the main event yet, but it had been so long since Isabela had touched her. Every inch of her was desperate for attention, eager for pleasure to relieve the hurt. As she lay her head back on the bed, feeling the pirate's experience tongue tracing along her collarbone, Hawke closed her eyes, losing herself in a messianic trance that was out of this world.

For a moment their clothes were a hindrance, but soon impatient hands began tearing fabric from the other, until there was nothing left between them but soft, naked flesh. Isabela slid upwards along Lana's body and sat sprawled across her face as Hawke had requested. As soon as Hawke's ardent tongue made contact with her saturated centre, Isabela's hands grabbed the wooden pole of the four-poster bed for support, her body weak and wild with desire. She threw her head towards the heavens as Hawke's palms crept up along her stomach, taking her bouncing breasts in a firm grip, manipulating them to her will. It was glorious! It felt like no time at all that Isabela was having her first shudder of the night, and as she cried herself hoarse she knew it was nowhere near her last.

Hawke dragged her back down to kiss her again, rolling over on top of Isabela this time, despite the pirate's best attempts to stay in control.

"Isabela?" Hawke asked between kisses.

"Uh-hm?" the Rivaini replied distractedly.

"Are you..." Hawke kissed her again, "...whistling out of your nose?"

They both chuckled and paused. "Oh, my nose is broken," Isabela told her, touching its swollen, bent bridge. "That slaver cracked me across the face when she caught me."

"Ah, sorry. Was just wondering what the noise was," Hawke sniggered. "Now, where were we?"

She started up their kiss again, ignoring the whistling sounds now, knowing it was Isabela trying to breathe amidst her excitement. Hawke ran her tongue along the pirate's gold lip piercing, taking it in her teeth and tugging it playfully, much to Isabela's amusement. She heard her giggle under her breath and respond with a bite of her own. _Ouch...I think she drew blood._ Tasting the metallic flavour in her mouth, Hawke concentrated further down where her fingers traced the insides of Isabela's thighs, teasing her before slipping them past the wet warm crevice at the peak and deep inside of Isabela's impatient body, eventually driving her to the brink of a magnificent climax.

"Hawke," Isabela breathed in her ear, lost in another world. "Harder..."

Together their naked, well-toned physiques moved, thrusting and grinding, reminiscent of the first time they had slept together back in The Hanged Man all those years ago. Touching each other in places neither could remember they had, Hawke and Isabela had sex every which way that night, setting a new record for themselves (which was saying a lot!). The candle on the bedside table burnt away until there was almost nothing left of the wick, and only then did the two women flop down onto the bed, breathless, sweat-soaked and satisfied.

"Maker!" Hawke gasped, "That was..."

"Glorious!" Isabela finished. "I haven't came like that in years."

"Me either," Hawke replied, lying utterly spent, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She touched her own cheeks, feeling how flushed they were. Before she knew it, Isabela was on top of her again, only this time she was there for a rest. The pirate lay her head down between Lana's shining breasts, and exhaled in exhaustion.

"You know, I still can't believe you're really alive," Isabela said, riddled with disbelief, as Hawke started playing with her hair. The pirate traced the long scar along Hawke's abdomen that the Arishok's horn had made years ago. It was so strange to be in her arms again after believing she was dead. Her body was just as Isabela remembered it, only with more scars than ever before now to accompany the big one. Hawke had been through so much. Isabela was glad to have her back when she could look after her.

"Did you cry?" Hawke asked sadly, sounding as though she didn't really want to know the answer. It was painful enough even thinking about it.

"Pfft! Please!" Isabela replied, feigning bravado. Hawke chuckled.

"What, no tears?" she teased. "No tantrums? Shame...And here I thought I meant something to you."

"You do," Isabela reassured her sincerely then, raising her head and hovering above her, face to face. She met Hawke's brown eyes with her amber ones, peering into their depths, seeing the burdens of unsaid goodbyes, along with heartfelt emotions, imprisoned by the sweetness of saccharine chocolate. "And I'm lying, Hawke. I did cry. When Varric told me you were gone, I...It broke me. I felt numb. Maker, I don't even have the words to explain it, sweetness. I'm just glad you're alive and I found you again. I had all but given up without you."

"I'm sorry," Hawke whispered, caressing her cheek softly. "I'm so sorry I put you through that."

"Don't do it again," Isabela warned. Hawke could see the amount of pain she had caused her etched on Isabela's face. She had never seen Isabela look so exposed, lost even. "I know I've done my fair share of running off since I've known you," Isabela continued, "but believing you were dead was the single most hardest thing I've ever had to deal with, Hawke. I won't go through it again!"

"That's quite something, coming from you," Hawke had to admit. She knew what Isabela's life had been, what she had done. The Rivaini had her husband killed, she murdered her own mother, she had raided, pillaged, slave-traded, slaughtered and sailed the eastern seas with an infamous reputation that many feared and respected. Maker knows what else Isabela had done in her life! Knowing now how much she had hurt her by leaving Skyhold and rushing in to danger, Lana couldn't help but feel ashamed of her actions. It took a lot to bring down the Queen of the Eastern Seas.

"Andraste's tits, I still can't believe it," Isabela repeated, sounding as though she was afraid this was all a dream and she would wake up at any minute to find Hawke gone. "I didn't know just how much of a hold you had over me until I thought you were gone forever."

"Neither did I," Lana said, brushing back a lock of Isabela's dark hair behind her ear, gazing up at her. "But now I do, Isabela. I guess it just doesn't work anymore, us being apart from each other."

"Maybe not," Isabela admitted with a sigh. "Wow, that doesn't sound as pathetic as I thought it would, finally admitting that to someone."

Hawke chuckled. "I should feel privileged then."

"Yes, you should," Isabela laughed. "I wouldn't broadcast it though. Knowing you're my one weak link might encourage others to kidnap you to get to me. That would be disastrous, sweet thing."

"I thought you liked seeing me in chains," Hawke teased.

"Only when I'm the one who chains you," Isabela smirked.

They kissed again then, slow and sensual, taking a break from conversation for several minutes, before finally returning to it.

"How did you survive, Hawke?" Isabela asked curiously. "Varric was so sure you were dead!"

"Honestly," Hawke began, "I should have been, but it was something that Flemeth once said to me that I think kept me alive."

"Flemeth?" Isabela repeated, "That dragon that appeared out of that locket you brought to Kirkwall?"

"Yes," Hawke replied. "The Witch of the Wilds. She once told me 'It is only when you fall, that you learn whether you can fly'. At the time I didn't know what she meant but...Bela, she was right. I should have died in the Fade with Donnic, but I didn't. My injuries were worse than his. I fell at the demon's feet waiting for that final blow. I had intended to die when I turned back to fight as the others ran to safety, but it wasn't to be. It was Donnic who perished instead. We killed the demon, but he died in my arms from his wounds...There was nothing I could do."

Hearing Lana's voice crack with emotion, Isabela kissed her once more, slow and tender, trying to alleviate her pain. When she pulled back, she saw a tear leak out the corner of Hawke's left eye and stream backwards into her hair. Isabela brushed it away.

"It wasn't your fault, Hawke. You mustn't dwell on it. What's past is past."

"We...We have to go see Aveline," Hawke sobbed. "I can't put something like this in a letter."

"No, no you can't," Isabela agreed. She didn't relish the idea of the long trip north-west to see the big girl, but even Isabela couldn't disagree with Hawke's logic. This wasn't something to read in a note. It had to come from a friend.

Isabela sat up then in all her glory then and walked over to the drinks cabinet, pouring herself and Lana a glass of whiskey.

"Bela?" Hawke said, sitting up too. She accepted the drink and Isabela sat down beside her again, waiting, both of them perched on the edge of the bed. "What did Navarre mean about you almost killing Leliana and Cullen?"

Isabela sighed. She knew this would come up sooner or later. "I'll tell you in the morning, Hawke."

"I want to know now," Hawke argued. "I get the feeling something big has happened while I've been dead."

"Well," Isabela said, setting her empty glass on the nightstand and shoving her back on the bed. She swivelled Hawke's broken foot around until she was lying the right way round, with her head on the pillow. "Too bad! You're injured, and you're drunk, and you're exhausted." Isabela pulled out the quilt from under her and threw it around Hawke, then slid in beside her and drew her close, placing a light kiss on her shoulder and tucking her knees up behind hers. "We have a long trip back to Skyhold, sweetness. I'll tell you everything then. It's a long story and I'd hate to make you angry. For now, let's just enjoy this moment. I don't want anything else getting in the way."

"I must admit, it feels like an age since I've had a decent sleep," Hawke yawned, caressing Isabela's arm that was wrapped around her. "It feels even better with you."

"Promise me no more heroics, Hawke," Isabela said seriously. "I'll kill you with my own hands if there's a next time."

Hawke chuckled. "I promise. I'm putting you first from here on out, Isabela. You and Bethany. No cause is good enough for me to give my life for it, not when my family needs me. I see that now."

"Good...Now, shut up and get some sleep," Isabela joked. "Admiral's orders. I'm not finished with you yet. You'll need your strength for what I have planned tomorrow morning."

Hawke laughed. "Ooo, you say such things, Admiral Isabela. Looking forward to it."

They both laughed. Isabela kissed Hawke's neck and both women closed their eyes, falling into a much needed sleep in each other's arms, having fought through death and destruction to get there.


	27. Closing a Door

_**Hello everyone! I hope you are all still with me! A**_ _ ** _ **pologies for the wait but it's been a tough few months.**_ I didn't want to return to this until I was in the right mindset and able to do it justice. This chapter is a short(ish) one just for me to get back into the swing of things, although it does add a major twist in the story. The next chapter will be more lighthearted and up to speed. Ciao!**_

* * *

The frosty return trip to Skyhold had more to do with just the weather. While the others walked the last few steps towards the castle, Hawke used her makeshift crutches to stumble through the snow, stubbornly refusing help. All this nomad business was now starting to create an emptiness inside of her that she hadn't felt since her mother had died. Falling behind, she decided to use the first ounce of peace and quiet she'd had in a month of travel to process all that Isabela had told her only this morning, having refused to do so before because she knew that it would upset her. Hawke now knew the entire goings on at Skyhold in her absence and on the quest to rescue her. To say she was livid was a blinding understatement.

Exhausted, Lana wiped a layer of sweat from her forehead with the back of her forearm and leaned forwards on her wooden crutches again, dragging her broken leg along like she had done the past few miles in a sombre mood. She didn't know how long she would stay angry, but that it wasn't likely to dissipate after seeing Sister Leliana again. After a glorious reunion with Isabela a few weeks ago in Denerim Tavern, Hawke hadn't foreseen falling out with her again this soon, but the initial shock of hearing how she had almost killed Leliana was damning, and the Spymaster's actions even more so. Lana's shit list was now so long she didn't know where to turn, and had taken to giving everyone the silent treatment instead while she figured it all out. It was a lot to take after having just watched a friend die and almost dying herself. Feeling, not for the first time, as though her head was ready to implode, Hawke believed the sooner they returned to Old Lothering, the better. That would unfortunately have to wait though.

Finally back in Skyhold, Hawke entered the Keep through a guard of awed admirers, hobbling up the white staircase. Some still eyed her with disdain, but others now looked at her with a similar reverence that they normally reserved for the Inquisitor. _I suppose I have fallen out of The Fade just like she did._ The sight that greeted Hawke inside was one that she couldn't have foreseen. Cheers and applause, nobles who once hated the sight of her, now scrambling to get a glimpse of the invincible Champion of Kirkwall. Her infamy had returned to the legend it had originally been, and it felt much like it had when she defeated the Arishok and received the title of Champion after saving Kirkwall from the Qunari coup.

Then there was Sister Leliana. The smouldering sapphires of Leliana's eyes were drowning in floods of tears at the sheer joy of seeing Hawke alive again when all hope appeared to be lost. Leliana held a hand over her mouth, shaking her head in disbelief as the miracle of the Champion of Kirkwall appeared. Josephine was beaming beside her, with an arm around the Spymaster. Cullen gave her a curt nod and continued applauding along with Cassandra. At this point Hawke felt more like a curse though. She couldn't help but feel she had gone down this road before, and wondered when they would all turn on her again. _I'll just have to get out of here before that happens again._

As the applause died out, Hawke had eyes for no one but the Spymaster. Leliana was a sight that used to make her heart flutter, that used to give her butterflies, but this was safely the first time Hawke could say she wasn't happy to see her again. Pausing a few feet from Leliana in the centre of the great hall, Lana clenched her fists around her crutches and stared back at a woman she no longer knew.

"Hawke," Isabela warned, sounding like she wished she hadn't told her what had happened between them. She placed a hand on Lana's shoulder, but it was shook away, and Isabela sighed in defeat.

"We'll... give you two a minute, shall we?" Josephine muttered awkwardly, knowing what it must be about. "It's good to have you back, Champion."

Hawke didn't reply. She felt Isabela place a kiss on her cheek as the Ambassador began to usher the Inner Circle out of the hall, along with the Inquisition's chattering benefactors despite their protests. Navarre was the last to budge, reluctant to leave. Seeing the way Leliana was staring at Hawke, the elf hovered uncertainly, understanding for the first time the depths of their affections for each other. Noticing, Isabela doubled back.

"Let's go," she assured her, tugging at Navarre's elbow. "First round is on me. Come on." She could see a muscle jump in Navarre's jaw and for a second thought she was going to refuse, but to her relief, the Grey Warden eventually tore her gaze away and allowed Isabela to lead her out with a friendly pat on the back.

When the heavy doors slammed shut behind them, the hall was plunged into silence. It was just the two of them. Hawke watched Leliana walked towards her as though seeing a ghost. The Spymaster softly took her into her arms then and kissed her cheek on the same spot Isabela had only moments before. Rather than sink into her and find comfort as she would have done in the past, melting into the warm embrace, Lana remained rigid. Something between them felt different now.

"Maker, you're alive! I...I'm so relieved to see you!" Leliana whispered in her ear, sounding overcome.

"I wish I could say the same," Hawke breathed, closing her eyes and trying to block out the flowery scent of Andraste's Grace that used to stir up so many emotions in her.

Leliana pulled back, hesitant and slow. "Must we do this now?" she asked in a hushed voice. Cupping Lana's face in her hands, she scanned the pain in her chocolate-brown eyes and sighed, almost pleading in the hope that the impending falling out could be avoided. But it couldn't. Finding the answer she didn't want in Hawke's silence, Leliana withdrew from her and walked a few paces away.

Hawke lowered herself onto the wooden bench alongside the long banquet table to her right and manoeuvred her crutches to one side. Her whole body ached after the journey. She took a deep breath, giving both herself and Leliana time to steady themselves. It was the Spymaster who spoke first.

"Isabela... told you everything?"

Lana looked up at her and nodded. "She did. I don't even know what to begin... Who to be angry with the most..."

"I just did what was necessary," Leliana said.

"You always do," Hawke agreed, though with a hint of spite, "And Maker be damned who gets in your way, Leliana."

"That's not fair," Leliana sighed, "I do what I must, just like you."

"Not to the people closest to me," Hawke challenged. "Not like you did with Bethany and Isabela. You used them like you use your agents, Leliana. You put them both in danger for your own games. You may even have used me. If that's the case, I don't want to be just another one of your pawns anymore."

"How can you say that to me?" Leliana whispered. "You were always more than that and you know it! I all but died when I thought you had fallen, Lana. I can't believe fate played the same cruel joke on me not once, but twice. I lost two people I loved, and now both of you have come back. How you're even standing here is a gift from The Maker himself!"

"Well, maybe The Maker should have been watching over those I loved more closely while I was gone, instead of watching me as I tried to rewrite my mistakes to save Thedas," Hawke breathed. "Those who I would be leaving behind... My family..." Tears spilled down Hawke's cheeks prematurely then, at the notion of what this whole thing might have cost her. She looked up at Leliana accusingly. "I thought you would protect her," she whimpered.

A dark shadow of guilt crossed Leliana's face. "It was what she wanted" she replied hoarsely. "Isabela...I was just doing what—"

"Isabela was grieving!" Hawke countered tearfully, slamming her fist on the table beside her, unable to hold it together despite her best efforts.

"And so was I!" Leliana cried, meeting Lana's emotional reply. Heaving a breath with great difficulty, Leliana then sank onto the Inquisitor's throne and cowered into her hands.

"You really would have let her... _die_?" Lana asked.

Leliana didn't respond. She seemed unable to look at Hawke, and continued weeping into her hands. Hawke never thought her friends would have let her whole world fall apart that fast if she fell. That was part of the reason she always felt like she could run into danger so often for the greater good. She knew Leliana and Isabela found it difficult to get along because of their feelings for her, but to Hawke, they were both family. Evidently not to each other though. The only miracle here was that Isabela, not Hawke herself, was still alive after the way she had been treated by the Inquisition.

"I might have expected this of Cullen or Cassandra," Lana continued, "Or even of the Inquisitor, who doesn't know Isabela that well...but _you_ should have known better, Leliana, than to let a grieving woman make a decision about her fate! To parade her in front of Skyhold in chains, to be spat on and heckled like some heartless criminal who deserved to be executed!"

"She is a criminal!" Leliana replied with defiance, finally meeting Lana's eyes again. "I may regret some of Isabela's dealings at mine and the Inquisition's hands, but I don't regret for a second ordering to have her things searched upon her arrival here, or dragging her back here with a fake letter from you to put things right. I only regret that poor Bethany got hurt in the process. Isabela's not innocent here. She tried to kill me. She smashed a bottle and held it to my throat!"

"I know that! And I've already argued with her about it, but _you_ manipulated her! Her actions were understandable," Hawke yelled. "Since when do you do that to your friends? Since when did you erase that line, Leliana, and start treating everyone as though they were expendable in your game?"

"We're all part of the game," Leliana said coldly. "Whether we want to play, or not."

Hawke shook her head, gazing at Leliana as though wondering who she was.

"You're a stranger to me now, do you know that, Lel?"

Sister Leliana snorted. "If I had a Sovereign for every time you've accused me of having changed over the years..."

"Well, I don't want to be around it anymore! I...I don't want to be around _you_ anymore."

Leliana bit her lip as she fought back more tears. "There are pieces of us that can never be apart from each other, Lana, whether you want to acknowledge them or not. We are bound to each other. We have been since the moment we met."

Hawke sighed. "Then how did we get here?"

"Lothering was a long time ago," Leliana whispered, "Another lifetime ago."

"So why...why do we keep reliving it?" Hawke asked, "Maybe...Maybe it's time we put it to rest for good. The pieces don't fit anymore, Leliana."

Leliana's tough outer shell fell away then, and for a fleeting moment Hawke could see genuine pain etched onto her face as the meaning of these words hit her hard.

"W-what are you saying?" she breathed.

Hawke could feel her bottom lip quivering with emotion but she fought it back. "I'm saying...this is it for us...For good this time."

"Don't do this, Hawke," Leliana sobbed. "I don't think I can win this war without you. You're the only one who remembers the person I used to be, who knows the real me. Without you, Lana... I'm lost."

Hawke dried her face and picked up her crutches, heaving herself to her feet. She took one last look at Leliana.

"Maybe I can forgive you for this one day," Lana told her, "But I have no idea when that day will be."

"I never wanted Isabela to be executed, none of us did. That's why I sent her after Navarre to postpone her trial!"

"You blackmailed her, Leliana. You sent her after Navarre for your own benefit, not hers. You used Isabela, like you've been using all of us."

"I can fix this," Leliana begged, "Let me apologise to Isabela. Let me make it right. Put _me_ in a blasted cell even! I don't care anymore, Lana. Maker, I'll do whatever it takes."

"It's too late for that," Hawke said, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. I really do hope you find happiness, Leliana, but it won't be with me. Right now I am turmoil to your thoughts, and you are poison to my heart."

"Lana...Please..."

"You know," Hawke smiled wryly, shaking her head at the moment of clarity she was having, "I've finally figured out what everyone has been talking about, what all the bards seem to sing of, what I've caused countless people with my actions. I never really understood before because I'd never experienced it for myself. But right now, you can be damn sure I feel every word, every voice cracking in sorrow, every deep, steadying breath, every sad melancholy of verses strung together in a pattern of gloom. That's what getting your heart broken like this feels like... That, and the pain it causes having nowhere to fester because your heart feels as though it was never there in the first place."

A tear streamed down Leliana's face. "Lana..."

"I've been constantly tortured by notions of a future we could have together that will never come to pass," Hawke admitted. "But I'm done now. It's over. You've shown you're not the woman I fell in love with all those years ago in Lothering, who I risked my life to come and visit in the Cloister every chance I could get... It's not even worth holding onto the 'what if's' any longer."

She turned her back on Sister Leliana and limped out of the great hall, feeling the last of Leliana melt away in her heart as the bard called after her.

###

"I'm sorry, sweetness. That must have been hard," Isabela sympathised.

It was later that night, and Hawke had just finished informing her of events in the great hall and the heartbreaking conversation she had just had with Leliana. Isabela was giving her a massage to ease the aches and pains of her body as a result of both using her crutches and the day's events.

"It was," Hawke sniffled. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on nothing more than Isabela's hands, sliding along her oily back and shoulders, pressing her muscles precisely where the tension was. Isabela stopped then.

"Hawke, it was my own decision to go through with the trial, you know that," she reminded her, "I didn't want to go on when I thought you'd died. I was just too bloody chicken to make the decision myself."

"I know," Hawke said. She turned over onto her back and took Isabela's face in her hand, leaning up and kissing her. "And I'm glad you didn't make that decision, otherwise I'd be sitting here alone. But it wasn't just this. I should have let Leliana go years ago, Bela. It wasn't fair on you, and it wasn't fair on us. Besides, she's got Navarre back in her life now. That's what she really wants and I don't want to get in their way."

"I thought you hated the Warden," Isabela sniggered.

"I don't 'hate' her!" Hawke chuckled, "I just don't like what she did, pretending to be dead all these years. Leliana might have turned into a piece of work recently, but she never deserved to be hurt like that. Maybe none of this would have happened if Navarre hadn't disappeared."

"Er, Leliana was the one who disappeared in that relationship," Isabela corrected, "When The Divine said 'Jump', Leliana said 'How high?' and went gallivanting off into the wild leaving Navarre to fend for herself after the Blight."

Hawke made a face. "Well, well, well, don't you sound very passionate about this all of a sudden!" she teased, "Do I detect a note of sympathy for the fearsome Hero of Ferelden?"

"What! I like Navarre," Isabela admitted shamelessly. "She's straightforward and takes no shit! I can respect that. And I also happen to think she has a very fair point. Leliana ran off and left her because Leliana wanted to be The Divines ass-wiper! And I happen to think the only reason why you _don't_ like Navarre is because she reminds you of what you could have had with Leliana all those years ago had the Blight not come along and spoiled it. You don't like the fact that Navarre replaced you."

Hawke sighed. She turned away from Isabela and got up, limping towards the window and leaning on the sill.

"What? Have I offended you now?" Isabela laughed, getting to her feet as well. "Maker's balls..." She slipped her arms around Lana's midsection from behind and rested her chin on her shoulder.

"I'm not offended," Hawke grumbled. "Maybe...I just agree with you."

"Well, so what if you do. Glad you finally admitted it. But I guess it's nothing for you to worry about now, is it?" Isabela teased, "Since you've let Leliana go and all."

"Do I detect sarcasm, Bela?"

The pirate laughed. "All I'm saying is, Leliana and you have too much history to cast aside on a whim. I think you're just angry. By the way, did I say thanks for defending me?" She kissed Hawke's neck. "I just don't think you can cut her out of your life, so I'll believe it when I see it."

"And you will," Hawke said, spinning around to face her. She wrapped her arms around Isabela and smiled, playing with her hair at the nape of her neck, "Because we're leaving Skyhold...tomorrow."

"We only just got here, sweetness, and you have a banjaxed leg."

"I'll risk it," Hawke said stubbornly, kissing her with finality. "Now, I'm going to go tell Bethany the good news...and if you're not naked and in that bathtub when I get back, I'm going to be very, very angry."

"Ooo!" Isabela crooned, "In that case, I'll be waiting eagerly for _that_ tantrum!"

Hawke laughed as she put on her red housecoat and grabbed her crutches by the door.

"See you in a bit."

"Bring a bottle of port on your way up! And some glasses! And don't keep me waiting too long!" Isabela sang after her.

Hawke threw her a cheeky wink as she left the room, and Isabela quickly began to undress and prepare a steaming hot bath for them to share.


	28. And Opening a New One

"So, you're really set on leaving tomorrow?" Varric asked from his spot by Hawke's side. They stood in the queued out tavern waiting to purchase their respective orders. "We've only just got you back. You, Bethany and Isabela are barely in one piece as it is. It's been a rough couple of months, Hawke."

"I know, and I really don't fancy another few, Varric," Hawke answered, resting on her crutches. Two Templars brushed past her rather unceremoniously then, shoving her off balance. They seated themselves at the corner table, eyeing her with contempt. Clearly her close association to Isabela and all the pirate's recent antics had warranted Hawke some ire. She glared in the Templar's direction, ready to light on them. Then, biting her lip, her exhaustion convinced her otherwise. "A shame you can't come with us. The trip northwest to see Aveline isn't going to be easy, and Isabela has plans for revenge in the east after what happened to Bethany with that pirate artefact."

"I'm sorry, Hawke. You know I would come if I could, but the Inquisition needs me," Varric said, ogling the Templars too in case they decided to start something. "I want to see this through to the end. Great ancestors, I still feel partly responsible for this whole mess."

"I know," Lana smiled sadly, "As do I." She massaged the tension in her temples, feeling familiar waves of guilt creeping back into her thoughts along with the constant, nagging voice that was always trying to convince her to do something reckless. This hero complex that Isabela always accused her of having was persistent and unrelenting. She had to resist, otherwise it would eventually kill her, for real this time. "My adventures have to come to an end sooner rather than later, Varric. I can't continue anymore, marauding around like I've got nothing to lose. I've given too much of myself away. I owe the rest to Isabela."

"I hear you. It _was_ touch and go there for a while," Varric laughed. "You had us all worried, Hawke. Where would I find inspiration for my stories had you died? Maker, think of the drivel I'm going to be writing now that you're finally hanging up your daggers!"

Hawke chuckled. "Maybe Ellana should be your focus from now on and not me," she teased. "Our Inquisitor is the type of hero these people need now, not me. I'm just an old relic from another time when the world almost fell apart... I guess _this_ time it's up to Ellie to piece it back together."

Varric smiled, understanding. "I should have never dragged you into it all again," he apologised, "You'd more than given your all in Kirkwall, and I know it tore you to shreds. You almost lost everything there."

"And yet you managed to write a few comedies based around me!" Hawke giggled. "Imagine that!"

"I wrote more than a few," Varric wheezed in amusement, "It's true what they say though, the best comedy does come from tragedy."

"And I certainly saw a lot of that," Hawke said, grim then as she recalled the horrors of her past. "Still, at least I didn't die of boredom! If Kirkwall was good for anything, it was keeping me on my toes."

Varric exhaled sorrowfully. His kind eyes stared up at his friend, overflowing with responsibility and regret. "I wish I'd never sent that letter to your home in Lothering asking for your help again, Hawke."

Hawke smiled and released her crutch to squeeze his shoulder understandingly. "I don't... You know I never miss the opportunity to show off."

"I've told myself ever since that day that the next time you want to leave, I should just let you go on and do it," Varric continued. "So that's what this is, Hawke. I'm going to miss you, you know that? But I'm not going to beg you to stay, despite the fact that the Inquisition needs all the help it can get against Corypheus."

"Thank you."

"If the world is to come to an end as we know it relatively soon, then you deserve to live out your remaining days in happiness," the dwarf told her. His voice was wrecked with such sincerity that Hawke actually felt strange, like this was the last time she would be seeing him. He was running into further danger with the Inquisition. In that moment, Hawke could feel her heartstrings tugging painfully at the fact that this time, she could not follow.

Choking up a little to the point where she could no longer speak, Hawke was thankful for the distraction of the bartender, finally free to take her order. "A jigger of your finest for my friend here as well," she added on the end of her and Isabela's requested bottle of port. She tossed a few sovereigns onto the counter and scooped up the dusty bottle and two small glasses, slipping them into the large pockets of her robe, freeing up her hands to use her wooden walking supports.

"Cheers, Hawke," Varric said, raising his drink in her direction, his eyes crinkling with emotion. "Best of luck on your last adventure. I hope you find some calm amongst the chaos."

Hawke swallowed over the lump in her throat. "Cheers, Varric. I'll make sure and seek you out tomorrow before we take our leave."

"I'll be waiting. Now get out of here and tell Bethany the good news... She's going home."

Hawke clasped his shoulder, and he her arm. She turned then, making her way back up the staircase that led to the tavern's bedsteads and hammocks. Once on the landing above, Hawke turned left in the direction of Bethany's room, excited to tell her they would be leaving for Lothering the next morning. _She's going to be so pleased. I know she's been missing Baby Lana and Charade._ Smiling, Hawke pushed open the door.

"Good news, little sis, we're going h-Aaahh!"

Hawke froze in the doorway, jaw dropping to the floor. A hairy, sweaty arse greeted her inside, thrusting relentlessly against a naked woman with black hair, who was pinned to the vanity table beside the bed. At first it didn't register, it didn't make any sense. Tangled limbs, the grunting, the moaning. Then all of a sudden, Hawke locked eyes with her baby sister over a man's shoulder and both of them recoiled instantly.

"Bethany!?"

"Lana!"

Bethany Hawke squealed and frantically scrambled out from behind the naked form that she had her legs wrapped around. She rushed for a piece of discarded clothing on the floor to cover up her dignity, her sweaty face burning bright crimson. Meanwhile, her companion turned guiltily in Hawke's direction, his hands cupping his genitals in a bid to shield them from view. It was then the full reality dawned on Hawke. If looks could kill, hers had just become a weapon of destruction.

"YOU!"

Discarding her crutches, and without a single thought for anything but murder, Hawke lunged at a bollock-naked Commander Cullen, tackling him to the ground. She closed her hands around this throat, venomously spiting fire and squeezing with all her might. Bethany screamed hysterically, clawing at Hawke's clothes, trying to drag her off him before she eradicated him and popped his blonde head off.

"Lana, stop! Please! Don't hurt him!"

Hawke couldn't listen, nor could she be unseated. She began to punch Cullen over and over then, seeing the skin above his brow rupture deliciously under her fist. A fierce howl built in her throat and scorched the air. Only when Cullen released his genitals to use his hands in self-defence and Lana felt his erect penis on her leg, did she retreat disgustedly, flinging herself off of him with Bethany's assistance and sliding across the floor as far away as possible. Cullen choked and spluttered in a heap, and Hawke felt her back hit the wall. She pressed against it, wide-eyed and traumatized, holding her head in her hands.

"Why?" Hawke moaned, shaking her head slowly, her eyes transfixed on a safe spot on the floor, "Why, why, why? Oh, why did I have to see that? Why...?"

Bethany helped a dishevelled Cullen to his feet, checking his bloodied face, before both of them quickly donned some form of clothing. Hawke sat whimpering like a kicked puppy in the corner, trying desperately to un-see what she had just walked in on. No one spoke for a few seconds. Cautiously, Bethany plucked up the courage to take a few steps towards her sister. She knelt down and reached out a hand.

Hawke flinched.

"Don't touch me," she pled, "Just...Nope! Reeeeally don't want to be touched right now, Beth. No...Uh-uh..."

"Sister," Bethany pled awkwardly.

Hearing the word 'sister', Hawke closed her eyes and continued shaking her head. That was the last thing she wanted to hear in that moment.

 _Like I need reminding..._

"Champion," Cullen interrupted then, clearing his throat. "I'm... sorry you had to find out this way. We've been meaning to tell you for a while now. Bethany and I—"

Bethany waved her hands frenetically to shush him, as Hawke appeared unable to cope anymore. Double-checking to make sure her nakedness was really covered, Bethany then stood up.

"Come on," she said softly, reaching out, "Take my hand."

Hawke ignored her, still in a state of shock.

"Lana, please!" Bethany begged. "Don't make this more awk—"

As if the situation couldn't get any worse, as if it needed another person to witness it, Isabela comically burst into the room with soaking wet hair, wearing nothing but a towel and looking absolutely thunderous. Her amber eyes found Hawke sitting in a ball on the floor.

"Where have you been?!" she demanded furiously. "I have been sitting in that bath tub for almost an hour waiting for you! My fingers are wrinkled like bloody raisins and the water's gone stone cold! I— Maker, it smells like sex in here!" The pirate did a double take. "What the...What in blazes is going on?"

Glancing from a half-dressed Cullen to a blushing Bethany, and then to an almost comatose Hawke by the door, a huge, knowing grin suddenly spread across Isabela's face.

"Oh..." she gasped gleefully, eyes alight, as though she had just won a prize of some sort. "Sweet blood of Andraste! I'm guessing this wasn't an incestuous threesome!" Over on the floor, Hawke made a noise that sounded like a wounded animal. "Andraste's tits! Oh, this is glorious...and thoroughly disgusting! Hawke?"

Hawke pined in response. Isabela bit her lip to try and restrain her laughter but she had never seen Hawke so stupefied.

"It wasn't meant to happen like this," Bethany sighed, clutching her head in embarrassment. "Lana, please talk to me! Let me explain!"

"Commander Cullen!" Isabela crooned playfully, scanning what of his nakedness was still on show, "You absolute hound! I didn't know you had it in me...I mean you... I mean Bethany."

"Bela," Hawke wretched painfully, "Stop..."

"I'm just saying!" Isabela continued, relentless, "And Bethany!" She threw her a naughty wink. "I always knew you were a dark horse, sweet thing. Good for you! Did he grope your grinder?"

"Bela..."

"Dampen your Divine?"

"Ugh..."

"Climb your rigging!"

"Can't..."

"Fist your funnel?"

"Aaaahh! Please!" Hawke yelled loudly, as Isabela plodded on. "Maker, murder me!"

"Sister, please let's talk about this!" Bethany pleaded.

"I don't think she can hear you right now," Isabela informed her as Hawke feigned deafness again. "I think she's got a vision of you both burnt into her retinas. Oh, how I wish I could read minds!"

"Andraste, don't remind me," Bethany wailed. "What am I going to do, Bela?"

"I'll get her up...Poor thing," Isabela chuckled, taking pity on Hawke. Still holding the towel around her own naked form and dripping water on the floor, Isabela bent down beside her love. "Come on, sweetness. Give me your hand. You can't sit there forever, you know."

Reluctantly, Hawke allowed Isabela to slip her fingers into hers and the pirate dragged her to her feet single-handedly.

"Andraste, she's bleeding!" Bethany freaked.

Seeing a few spatters of blood on Hawke's abdomen and the blood on Cullen's face, Isabela realised what must have happened. She quickly put her hand into the pockets of Hawke's red robe, withdrawing the two broken glasses she had concealed and placing the larger fragments on a nearby cabinet. She then slipped out the miraculously unbroken, half sized bottle of port and thrust it into Hawke's hands. Hawke clung to it like a lifeline.

"Will she be alright?" Cullen asked, as he watched blood seep deeper into Lana's clothes. "That doesn't look good."

Isabela was already one step ahead of him. She slid a hand under Hawke's attire and felt around for the source of the blood. It was just a minor injury thankfully, but it would still need cleaning and dressing. "She'll be fine. I'll stitch her up back in our room."

"I can heal—"

"Don't touch me, I don't know where you've been," Hawke recoiled, dodging her sister's helping hands.

Isabela couldn't hold back her amusement any longer. This was the most she'd laughed in a long time and knew it would remain high up on her list of favourite stories. Hawke cowered in her arms, wanting someone to take her away from here.

"Come on, Hop Along. Beth, grab her crutches and follow us, will you? I haven't enough hands."

Bethany turned back to Cullen, who handed her Hawke's wooden sticks, along with a smouldering gaze. "I...Good night, Lady Hawke," he said in his smoothest cadence. He leaned in a placed a light kiss on her cheek before picking up the rest of his things. Cullen slid out past Lana awkwardly then and hovered in the doorway. "Apologies, Champion. This was, er... rather unfortunate. We'll... speak in the morning, yes?"

"You're dead."

Sensing the ongoing danger despite Hawke's injuries, Isabela quickly ushered her out, supporting her down the hallway. Hawke rested her arm around Isabela's shoulder and glared back at Cullen threateningly, taking great pleasure in seeing he was actually wary of what she might do to him when the sun rose.

###

Half an hour later, Isabela, now fully clothed, had successfully removed the small broken pieces of glass from Hawke's stomach with a set of tweezers, and sewed up the half-moon cut around her naval that was causing the most bother. Bethany was watching from the windowsill, waiting for her chance to explain herself, determined not to let her sister sleep on this and try to act as though it never happened.

"Hawke?" Isabela asked, moving the extra gauze from the bed and taking up a place beside her. Hawke didn't reply. "Have you fallen out with me now too?"

"That depends. Have you stopped laughing yet?" Hawke replied grumpily.

At this, Isabela almost broke into another fit of giggles, but she held back with great difficulty.

"I know this is hard for you," she said instead, wrestling to keep the smile off her face at the word 'hard'. "But Bethany's an adult."

"No, she's my little sister," Hawke corrected.

"I'm not a child anymore, Lana!" Bethany interrupted angrily, her arms folded. "I'm a woman! I have needs!"

Hawke closed her eyes and cringed at her words. "Why him?" she whispered, as though asking herself or the heavens for an answer. A mental image of Cullen's ass imbedded itself in her brain, and something else, long and throbbing, that gave her the shivers. "Ugh, I think I felt it on my leg!"

Hearing Isabela burst out laughing again, Hawke opened her eyes and hit her a furious whack on the arm. Unfortunately this only made Isabela laugh even more and she slid onto the floor in a wrinkle, sniggering so much that there were tears in her eyes.

"Oh, for goodness sake!" Bethany exclaimed, stepping over a hysterical Isabela as she made her way over to the bed. She sat down and placed a hand on Lana's leg. "Look at me. Lana, look at me!"

Reluctantly, Hawke stared into her little sister's beautiful face. It was the first time she had really done so in months. Bethany's eyes were still ringed with a sickly darkness due to her demonic possession, her lips still pale and chipped and dry. But her eyes were the same, wide and kind, the same as they had been when she and Lana were kids, and that just made this all the more worse for her elder sister.

"I'm sorry, Beth," Hawke sighed, feeling bad for her reaction now. "I guess...it's just hard for me to see you all grown up. When I turned away you were just so innocent and sweet, and when I finally looked back again years later you were, well, this."

"I'm entitled to grow up," Bethany said coolly. "But I am _really_ sorry that you had to find out about Cullen and I in this fashion. I so wish you had of knocked first before you came in."

"Yeah, me too!" Hawke implored pointedly. She could still hear Isabela laughing at the foot of the bed and finally she and Bethany joined in a little. It was such a bizarre night, that it was a relief when it suddenly became a bit more light-hearted.

"Why him though?" Hawke pleaded achingly, "Cullen? Really? Ugh, I hate him so much! He took you away from me in Kirkwall, Beth. I'm never going to like him!"

"You don't have to like him," Bethany said reasonably. "The important thing is that _I_ do. Cullen protected me against that demon, you know. The other Templars here would have killed me, but he stopped them more than once. He's not as bad a man as you seem to think, Lana."

"Oh, I'm sure he's a right little hero," Hawke said sarcastically. "Living in Meredith's back pocket all those years, terrorising Mages in the Gallows and ripping families apart."

"You're being unfair," Bethany accused. "Look who you chose to spend your life with!"

"HEY!" Isabela complained, popping her head up to glare at them both, her laughter finally ceasing.

"I'm just saying!" Bethany apologised, "You're not exactly marriage material, Isabela."

"Still!" the pirate protested, "Low blow!"

"Sorry," Bethany sighed, "I'm getting off track. All I'm saying is, how many times did everyone try to talk you out of falling for Isabela, Lana? How many bad things as she done in her life? How many times did she lie to you? And did you listen? No!"

"She—Back then we—Ugh, that was different!" Hawke stammered, though not really knowing how or why it was but stubbornly confident in her arguments validity.

"The same concept still applies," Bethany persisted. "I'm not going to apologise for my heart... And do you know who taught me that? You did, sister."

At this Hawke cowered a little, embarrassed at the unexpected compliment. "Ah, shucks, Beth! Don't try to butter me up. I've been privy to way too much information tonight for you to try the whole cuteness and nicety thing on me again. It's not going to work."

"It's the truth, Lana," Bethany insisted, smiling warmly at her and delicately taking her hand. "I've always looked up to you, ever since we were little. Carver was always so brash and hard-headed, and mother never had much time to see beyond her fears for her apostate child, to recognise me for who I was underneath all that. But you, Lana...? You were my rock. You never smothered me. You never contained me. You never stopped me from experiencing the world for myself despite the dangers it held. You always watched over me from afar and protected me from harm. I still remember you tucking me into bed some nights back in Gamlen's home, when he and mother had been at each other's throats and I'd fallen asleep alone on the couch."

"Well... it-it was dangerous in Lowtown. I-I didn't want you to get cold," Hawke explained, shrugging like it was no big deal.

"And the day when the Templars came for me?" Bethany reminded her, "You fought your way through, battling to the bitter end to rescue me from a fate I could no longer escape, but you still gave everything you had."

"Yet Cullen got you in the end anyway," Hawke said sadly. "He won, Bethany. The bastard won!"

"He didn't _win_ , Lana. I _chose_ him. I don't think you realise how much he actually protected me in the Circle all those years," Bethany revealed. "That's why he never had you arrested either, despite knowing what you were doing in Kirkwall. Cullen realised how much pain losing me had caused you. The day he took me away from Gamlen's home, away from you, the Commander bound himself to the cause that you could no longer shoulder. He had torn apart so many families before then for the good of the Templars and the Chantry, but for some reason he felt it was his duty to pay back a debt to you. And that's how Cullen and I happened. For how could I not love someone who gave everything to me, much in the same way as you always did?"

Hawke was speechless. Seeing such passion in Bethany's eyes, she realised she was wrong for having freaked out the way she did. Her sister was right. She had grown up when no one was watching. Just because Lana had failed to see it before now, it didn't mean that she could disregard it.

"I didn't know you still thought that highly of me," Hawke said softly, stunned by the effusiveness of Bethany's words.

"Of course I do," Bethany replied, "I know as we've gotten older we've had our ups and downs, but you'll always be the person to whom I measure all others... I love you, Lana."

Isabela stared from one sister to the other, amazed. She had never witnessed such unconditional love before, and was surprised to find that this kind didn't make her uncomfortable. Lana and Bethany's relationship really was a truly beautiful thing, evolving over time. The younger of the two buried her face in her elder sister's chest then, and Lana held her tightly, close to her heart where she belonged. She kissed the top of Bethany's head and was soon greeted by Isabela, kissing her the same way. The pirate hugged them both, burying her face in Hawke's hair, and closed her eyes, experiencing for the first time in her life what it really and truly meant to have a family.


	29. A Long Time Coming

**_If I could give you any piece of advice for this chapter, it's this. When you get to the half way point (Ie. the chapter break line in the middle) go to youtube, type in 'rain and thunder 10 hours high quality' and chose the video with purple lightening. Then read the last half of the story while it's playing in the background. Enjoy!_  
**

* * *

The next morning, Hawke woke up under Isabela's arm, groggy and dazed after the copious amounts of port she had necked last night. They were both entwined in the bed sheets after fooling around, when Bethany finally returned to her own room for the night after an important talk. With a long, stretching groan, Hawke swivelled sleepily to face Isabela. Eyes still closed, she found Isabela's lips with her own and initiated a long, lingering kiss until she felt them come alive.

"Mmm," Isabela moaned contentedly, still half asleep. Hawke felt the pirate invite her closer until their legs were intertwined, bodies pressed together. Isabela then slid her hand along the nape of Hawke's neck, burying her fingers in her tangled hair, stroking soothingly.

"It's so quiet," Hawke murmured, feeling as though she could drift off again at any moment. She traced Isabela's spine absentmindedly with her finger.

"Mmm..."

Hawke smiled, knowing Isabela wasn't fully conscious. She kissed her once more and settled in with a deep breath, allowing her to continue resting. Opening her own eyes, Lana gazed across at the peaceful, olive-toned features before her. She traced the curve of Isabela's jaw with her thumb, over and over, feeling her heart swell as it so often did in the pirate's presence. Even after all these years, seeing Isabela in her most vulnerable, peaceful state every morning they could spend together brought about emotions in Hawke that she couldn't fully describe. They had been through so much. Today would mark the beginning of their final adventure.

"Isabela?" Hawke whispered after what felt like an hour of enjoying simply staring at her. She hoped to see her eyelids flicker open, but all she got in response was a well-timed snore. Smiling, Hawke kissed Isabela on the forehead and slid away from her embrace. She got out of bed and looked back, seeing the pirate lie on her side in all her glory, out for the count. Her smoothe, tan outline had goose bumps due to the draft. Hawke pulled the crumpled bed sheet at the foot of the bed and placed it over her to keep her warm. She then pulled her red robe on after picking it up off the floor, and limped to the windowsill, spotting Isabela's pipe and preparing it for a smoke.

Taking an enjoyable puff, Hawke leaned on her good leg and blew a plume of smoke out the window, staring out at the magnificent landscape. She couldn't wait to leave Skyhold, but it still felt good to have a moment's pause to herself before going on the move again, to admire the view and contemplate everything that had happened. Thinking back to her last words with Leliana, Hawke couldn't help but feel such regret at having ended things in that manner, but Leliana had given her no choice. Her heart, that had swollen so much after watching Isabela sleep, now felt like there was an anchor attached. Holding a hand over her chest as fresh heartbreak at the hands of Leliana crashed over her again, Hawke discarded the pipe and closed over the open window.

Hawke stretched, and then began to pour herself a bath, using the pot of hot water that had been boiled in front of the fire overnight. When the tub was filled, Hawke stripped off the only piece of clothing she had on and slid into its depths, resting her broken and bandaged foot up on the edge to keep it dry. She closed her eyes and lay her head back against the other edge, feeling her aching muscles relax and the stress to siphon off of her.

After several minutes of meditation, two hands slid down her arms as Isabela kneeled down behind her and rested her dry cheek against Lana's wet one. Hawke smiled, eyes still closed, as Isabela kissed her neck, nuzzling up against her once more.

"You're awake," Hawke greeted her. "Sleep well?"

"Relatively," Isabela muttered in her ear. The pirate slid her hands down along Hawke's chest then, caressing between her cleavage, and then resting along her breasts under the water.

"Maker, it feels like forever since I've just...sat down," Hawke whispered, enjoying the sensation as the pirate traced the outline of her nipple. The steam of the bath and Isabela's touch was cajoling her into a heightened state of relaxation, almost hypnotising her into oblivion. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

"I know, sweetness," Isabela muttered back, kissing her wet cheek. "It won't be long before all of this is over though. Just a few more months at most."

"I'm so tired, Isabela," Hawke exhaled.

"I am too," Isabela admitted. "Have you figured out what you want to do when this is all over?"

Hawke sighed. "I was hoping you had some ideas."

Isabela cupped the warm water in her hands and brought it up over Hawke's chest, watching it trickle down her skin. She repeated the motion, taking a moment to contemplate what their life would be like once they caught the pirates responsible for betraying her and for putting that amulet in her pack, causing Bethany's possession.

"I do," Isabela replied finally, "I just want to sail away with you, Hawke. Somewhere new and exciting...but I know you'll never leave Bethany."

"Bethany's got her own life now, by the sounds of it."

"Assuming Cullen survives this war," Isabela corrected. "Are you sure about leaving her behind here?"

"It's what she wants," Hawke said simply. Last night, when Lana had explained to her sister they were leaving this morning, Bethany refused to go with them, vowing to stay by Cullen's side.

"I know you would prefer her to come along," Isabela said, noticing how careful Hawke's reply was but feeling her squirm and tense a little under her touch. "It's too dangerous to leave her here without you to protect her."

"Didn't you hear? I've been replaced," Hawke replied with a wry smile back at Isabela. Isabela mirrored her.

"That's not what she meant, Hawke. I think Bethany was just trying to explain to you how sweet she is on the lad."

"Well, I don't think I need to hear it after what I saw last night." Hawke closed her eyes again, relishing the feeling of Isabela's cheek against hers. They were standing on the precipice of something different and unpredictable, and it scared Hawke more than she knew. Bethany was the one putting herself in danger this time, and there was nothing Hawke could do to stop her. Cullen had his hooks in her deep, it would seem. Today might be the last goodbye she and Bethany would ever have. "Everything's going to change again, Bela," Hawke gasped emotionally. "I've up rooted my life so many times before. Promise me...Promise me I won't have to again after this!"

Feeling a tear trickle down Hawke's face and onto her own, Isabela wrapped her arms around her tighter and kissed her cheek again. "Sshh...I promise, sweetness. The end is near. We'll sail away on The Eider's Cry when this is all over, somewhere just the two of us. No one to get in our way."

Hawke clutched the arm around her with a shaky hand, finding the solace she needed in Isabela's assurances.

"It's time to say our final goodbyes, isn't it?" she gasped, feeling crippled by the idea of faces she would no longer see anymore.

Isabela withdrew her head then and looked round, tilting Lana's head to the right to see her properly. "Yes," the pirate said simply, her amber eyes dancing to each of Hawke's frantic brown ones. "It is. So suck it up. And let's get on with it."

Hawke chuckled and a smile broke through her sadness. "Yes, Admiral. You're right. Help me up, and let's get ready to leave."

"That's my girl."

Isabela brushed her lips against Hawke's then raised herself into a standing position. She held Hawke's underarms and helped heaved her out of the water and over the edge of the steel bathtub. Feeling her struggle for balance with her one good leg, Isabela caught her on the other side and steadied her. The two of them stood pressed together, water seeping from one naked body onto the other. After a heartbeat of silence, Hawke found Isabela's mouth, kissing her hard and deep, her tongue agile and expert. With one leg pressed between her thighs, her hand slid down to Isabela's ass, dragging her closer. Isabela broke from their kiss, flinging her head back to try and catch a breath as Hawke's mouth then slid over her throat, tasting her skin, wanting more.

With one hop, she jumped Isabela, wrapping her legs around her waist and feeling the pirate catch her with strong, taut arms. Isabela took a few steps until her legs hit the bed and she fell backwards onto it, bringing Hawke down along with her. It was skin against skin, slick with wet desire. Hawke thrust atop her, taking Isabela's hands in hers and positioning them where she wanted to be touched. Waves of pleasure crashed and broke under Isabela's control to the point where Hawke didn't feel in control of her body any longer despite the fact that she was on top. Her laboured breaths soon became full blown moans of ecstasy and she shuddered under the powerful waves of pleasure. She collapsed forwards and Isabela turned her over, climbing onto of her instead.

The pirate pinned Lana's hands on the bed over her head and paused, staring down at her.

"This was all just an elaborate ploy to seduce me, wasn't it?" Isabela teased.

Hawke chuckled, struggling to find her voice. Isabela's gaze became an intense stare then, her beady amber irises focusing fully on Hawke's features.

"What is it?" Hawke gasped. She watched Isabela falter.

"We're...we're really doing this aren't we? Leaving I mean?"

"Of course," Hawke replied, frowning up at her in concern. "As soon as we settle our business and tell Aveline of Donnic's demise, that's it, Bela. We're leaving everyone behind. All of it."

Isabela sighed, thinking then. She released Lana unexpectedly and slid off her, walking to find her clothes.

"Where are you going?"

Isabela didn't look up. "Meet me in the horse stables in ten minutes."

"What?"

"Ten minutes," Isabela simply replied, throwing on whatever was closest to her and rushing for the door.

"Isabela, wait! You can't just—"

The Admiral disappeared out of sight, leaving a bewildered Hawke alone lying naked on the now-soaking bed.

* * *

Later, after the short time period that Isabela had requested, Hawke swung into the stable on her crutches out of the lashing rain, wondering what all this could be about. She shook the wet from her hair and glanced around. It seemed suspiciously devoid of Warden Blackwall and Master Dennet. Maybe it was too early for them. It wasn't long past dawn after all. Or maybe Isabela had shooed them away for whatever she was planning.

 _Where in The Void is she?_ Hawke wondered to herself, seeing no sign of her other half. She stared back out into the rainfall and couldn't spot her. There was no one around at all. Thoroughly confused, Hawke meandered about in the stable for a bit, checking out the carved wooden horse and numerous other little creations that had been done by a practicing hand.

"Sorry, took longer than I expected."

Hawke jumped at the unexpected voice as Isabela finally reappeared.

" _What_ took longer than you expected?"

"Someone's meeting us here," Isabela informed her.

"Who?"

The pirate ignored her, taking her in her arms then and throwing her crutches to the side. "So you can't run away," she teased alluringly. Hawke grinned.

"Should I be worried now?"

"Relax, sweetness. Trust me." Isabela silenced her with a kiss.

"So I take it we're picking up from where we left off earlier?" Hawke asked playfully, holding Isabela close.

"Oh we will finish _that_ conversation, don't you worry," Isabela purred, "But not yet. This is important."

"What are you planning, Bela?" Lana asked warily.

As if on cue, someone appeared in the distance then. A purple hood, red hair peeking out from under it. Sister Leliana.

"Bela," Hawke growled furiously. "What are you thinking, inviting her here? After everything?"

"It's been a long time coming, sweetness."

"I'm not...You can't be..."

Hawke continued stammering in protest as Sister Leliana entered the barn, shaking down her drenched hood. Her pale skin was almost glowing in the dark morning, her red bangs plastered to her forehead. She shook them aside, taking one look from Hawke to Isabela, and then back again.

"What's this about?" Hawke demanded.

"I'm making sure you don't add another thing to a list of your regrets," Isabela told her. "You can't leave things like this if we're really leaving for good."

"You leaving?" Leliana asked in a small voice, full of regret.

"Do you blame us?" Hawke snarled, "We're clearly not wanted here." She didn't understand why Isabela was doing this. The rain pattered down loudly on the roof of the stable then, harder than before. "I'm done talking," Lana said coldly, not looking in Leliana's direction.

"Then let me," Leliana interrupted, closing the literal distance between them in an effort to mend the metaphorical one. Feeling her one good leg weaken, Hawke released Isabela and seated herself on the edge of the table the small wooden unfinished horse was perched on. Leliana knelt down in front of her, her bright blue eyes staring up, a hand on either leg. "Along time ago, back in Lothering, I once told you my loyalty to you was stronger than my loyalty to the Chantry," she began. "Do you remember?"

Isabela began inspecting the stable tactfully then, scouring the shelves as Hawke had done moments before. Hawke watched her for a second before reluctantly replying to Leliana: "I remember. Back then we were very different people...Some of us anyway."

"The Maker has guided us in different directions since Lothering," Leliana agreed. "But that night was a turning point for us both. We didn't realise the decisions we made then would eventually tear us apart and put us on separate paths."

Her voice echoed soft regret as she recalled her plan long ago to meet Hawke in the windmill where they had spent their first night together. It had been during the weeks that followed, when the Templars were hunting Hawke for sacrilege against the Chantry in an attempt by the Revered Mother to convert her. Leliana had originally organised the meet as a ruse, a trap to bring Hawke out of hiding, but she found it was more difficult than expected to use the talents Marjolaine gave her for the good of the Revered Mother. Instead she played double agent, helping Lana pull off a coup-de-grace, to play into the Chantry's hands in an effort to remove the target off her back and keep her family safe.

"If your plan is to try and remind me of who you were when I fell in love with you, Leliana, then I'm sorry to disappoint. It's not going to work," Hawke said frostily, glaring in Isabela's direction again, angry with her for whatever good this was supposed to do. She had already said bitter goodbyes to Leliana after everything the woman had done. Now wasn't the time for forgiveness. Hawke had nothing left in her to give, and Leliana less than deserved it.

"It isn't," the Spymaster insisted, "I'm merely trying to remind myself of how far I have f-fallen in your eyes." Leliana stood then and took Lana's face in her hands, staring deeply into the soft brown that had become caramelised by Hawke's mounting tears. "I meant those words," Leliana promised, "I meant every word of what I said to you that day, Hawke. But I let you down. I let both of you down."

"Bethany always trusted you," Hawke replied, surprised that she didn't have the strength to resist Leliana's hands on her despite her resentment. She simply stared back, and for a moment it felt like it was just the two of them as Isabela moved out of sight. "I envied how open she could be at times. I was always more guarded... until I met you."

"I know. It was my fault. I pushed you to open up to me," Leliana said with profound sadness. "It was selfish. You were right to keep me at a distance."

"You were a sheep in wolves clothing, Leliana. But it wasn't you that convinced me. I didn't really know you, but something told me you and I were meant to be together," Hawke continued. "And in a time of crisis I put my faith in you to make the best decisions for myself and my family...but not anymore. The family I spoke of in those days may differ to the one I have now. It may contain new people, but you've hurt _damn_ near every one of them, Leliana! Everyone I care about! And you've hurt me."

Leliana nodded with tightly closed eyes. "I didn't mean to," she said, sounding close to tears. "I tried to play The Game on you back then too, didn't I?" she added, sickened by herself. "It was wrong. I knew it was wrong, but I still put all the pieces into place in order to carry out my plan. It was only then, when the Templars almost found us that night, that I realised my true feelings for you. Which is why what I've done now makes no _sense! Maker be praised!_ "

The Bard's face became wrecked in pain as the full weight of her regret weighed on her shoulders. Hawke's eyes spilled over, leaking tears onto Leliana's hands.

"You want a way to make this up to me?" Hawke asked then, taking Leliana's hands from her face and holding them tightly in her own. "You want me to forgive you for this whole mess, Leliana?"

Leliana nodded.

"Watch over my sister," Hawke begged, squeezing Leliana's fingers desperately. "Keep Bethany safe, for me, please! Maker, I don't want to leave my little sister here in the middle of a war, but she is determined to stay, and it's _k-killing_ me that I can't change her mind!"

Hawke shattered in that moment, and so did Leliana. Seeing such rawness that reflected her own, Lana couldn't watch and not act. Without a thought, she leaned in, catching Leliana off guard with a soft, lingering kiss in an effort to take the pain away for them both.

Time stood still, stunned.

Before Hawke could panic, before she could really comprehend what she had just done and as her head grew light, suddenly, another mouth claimed her attention. She recognised the taste as Isabela, but it was encouraging, not deflecting. Suddenly Hawke realised that this is what Isabela had planned all along, and she'd obviously gotten Leliana to agree before coming to the stable. Blindly, Hawke fell into a state of euphoria as two sets of lips then vied for her affection. In a sudden moment of clarity, surprised at finding herself in the two women's arms, she broke from her kiss with Isabela and opened her eyes.

"Bela, what the... Are you sure about this?"

Isabela kissed the palm of Hawke's hand resting on her cheek. She grinned her familiar crooked smile in reassurance, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Sex is the best reliever of tension, sweet thing."

"But—"

"Shut up, Hawke. No more pointless talking. Let this happen."

Isabela silenced her with another kiss.

Hawke was overwhelmed. _Is this real?_ She turned to back Leliana then, realising she had been given permission, and her half-broken heart swelled to its full capacity. Suddenly the Bard looked different. She looked fleetingly like the Leliana that Hawke remembered. It was as though someone had lit a fire in her belly. Isabela gave her an 'it's now or never' look and left it open to her to make the decision. Needing no more encouragement than that, Lana guided Leliana towards her and kissed her deeply, relinquishing all the dormant feelings she had been holding onto to so long. It was indescribable. Inexpressible. Ineffable.

Overpowered by both women as passions surged, Hawke soon found the logistics alone enough to rob her of her control. Feeling two pairs of hands touching her, two pairs of hands simultaneously undressing her, two sets of lips on either side of her neck, she stared up at the open heavens through a hole in the roof, wide-eyed, mouth ajar. _Maker's Breath!_ The rain had gotten heavier, leaking through the cracks above down on the three of them, soaking them to the skin. Feeling the droplets on her face, Hawke was momentarily distracted, until she realised the tongues that had been tracing her collarbone had ceased. She stared down, seeing Isabela and Leliana kissing each other instead, and felt her body squirm with both jealousy and arousal.

After taking her fill, admiring the view, Hawke broke them apart and claimed Isabela's lips as her own once more, knowing the lines being crossed here were a turn on for all of them, but making sure that once they were erased they were redrawn again. It was a battle of teasings, then reassurances...and then Leliana.

Hawke felt the Bard take her hand and raise her off the table where she sat perched, lips still glued to her pirate's. Leliana pressed up against her from behind, sandwiching her between Isabela, whose hands had started to wander. Clothes were torn from all angles. Leliana's hand slipped down the waistband of her breeches, while Isabela's wormed their way under her shirt. Hawke felt they were teaming up on her, and found she was rather enjoying it. She was touched from both front and back, pressed between two sets of breasts and not knowing what ones she wanted to suck on first. It was Isabela though, who got stole her idea. The pirate playfully flicked Hawke's nipple with her tongue, as she slid to her knees and left a trail of wet kisses down Hawke's writhing body. Hawke pressed herself harder against Leliana as her legs began to judder.

Feeling the pirate's tongue nestle between her legs and Leliana's hands withdraw, Hawke cried out, lying her head back against Leliana, who was supporting her from behind. She could hear Leliana's breath in her ear, feel the Bard's wet hand cupping her breast. Leliana nibbled along Lana's jaw line, sucking the rain water off her skin.

"Lel!" Hawke gasped.

The rain pounded harder around them. Lana couldn't take it anymore. She guided Isabela back up to her, but before she could kiss her was spun around by Leliana to face her instead. Both of them were competing for dominance. Both of them were competing for her. The sheer difference in the woman's bodies was never so obvious to Hawke in that moment; Big breasts versus small; blue eyes versus amber; red hair versus black; olive skin versus pale skin. Two women, and both of them scarred in different ways. The contrast was unbelievable, and yet Hawke couldn't decide between them. She desired them both. She loved them both, that much had always been clear. She slid her fingers between Leliana's legs, retracing old territories and hearing a familiar moan of delight. Hawke felt Isabela do the same to her from behind and both of them unleashed their talents upon a wet morning that none of the three of them would ever, ever forget.


	30. When to Quit

**_Hello all! Thanks for the continued messages/reviews to remind me of my duties to this story. I finally found a bit of time to update for you all. Apologies for the long wait. Enjoy!_**

* * *

"This really is goodbye, isn't it?"

Later that day, standing in the crow's nest above Skyhold where Leliana called home, Hawke gave Leliana a sad smile and sat herself on the corner of the Spymaster's wooden desk that always seemed to be covered in papers.

"Yes," she replied with a sigh. "I'm thankful we didn't end things on bad terms, Leliana."

The Spymaster nodded, lips thin, chagrined at the bittersweet separation that would become permanent as soon as Hawke took her first step down that bird-shit covered, spiral staircase.

"As am I," Leliana agreed. "Isabela is an incredible woman for what she did for us."

Hawke snorted. "Oh, I'm sure she got what she wanted out of it too. Selfless deeds aren't really in her nature after all."

Their laughter subsided almost instantly as the harrowing realisation that they would most likely never see each other again set in. It hung over them like a cloud, weighty and grey, pressing down on their hearts as the prospect of separation loomed.

"I know she and I have had our differences," Leliana continued, leaning on the stone window sill, the sun pouring in behind her, illuminating her flaming orange hair. "And I know what Isabela organised this morning in the stables was as much for her as for us, but she gave me the opportunity to say a lot of things to you that were never meant for words, Lana. For that, I thank her."

Hawke silently agreed. Stillness fell over both women once more, broken only when a raven flew in the open window and landed on Leliana's desk. The Spymaster made towards it and released the tiny scroll from its ankle. Lana watched as she unrolled it, waiting.

"It's from Scout Harding. The main road to Weisshaupt is blocked by a large party of Red Templars, the size of a small army. Apparently Samson is bringing them all to his side. Nowhere is safe at the moment. They're coming out of the woodwork, both Templars and Wardens alike."

"Damn it!" Hawke swore, standing upright, putting her weight on her good leg. "Isn't Samson that lyrium addict from Kirkwall?"

"The very same."

"Maker's Breath, and I thought I'd killed all the idiots there before I left," Hawke joked half-heartedly. "Why would he ever take red lyrium...?" Leaving her rhetorical question unanswered, Hawke scooted away a few of Leliana's letters to reveal the large map of Thedas underneath and the two women peered down at it, side by side.

"I'm starting to think Isabela might be right."

"About what?" Leliana wondered, stabbing the location of Harding's report with a red pin to accompany the other multitude of dots that signalled blocked paths and danger zones.

"Rather than go west into Orlais then north through Nevarra on land, she thought we'd be better taking her ship from Gwaren and sail up from here," Hawke pointed on the map, "Through the Amaranthine Ocean, around Ferelden, out around Antiva and Rivain then coming up above the Free Marches and Tevinter to get to Aveline in the Anderfels."

Leliana pondered the route. "Hmm, her idea might be a sounder one. There are too many rifts along the way if you go on foot, and the Red Templars are everywhere as you can see."

"You're right, although I don't think that was her reasoning for the detour," Hawke said, "Isabela knows the longer she's away from The Eastern Seas, the more pirates are going to try and reclaim it. She's heading for Lachlan Poole's fleet."

"And to avenge Bethany, no doubt," Leliana added, "Would that be such a bad thing? Surely your goals are aligned in that."

"I'm just afraid of getting distracted from Aveline," Hawke said worriedly. "We will find out who planted that cursed charm on Isabela, enabling it to find its way into Bethany's hands, but I need to tell Aveline what happened to Donnic as soon as possible. I owe her that much at least."

Leliana placed a gentle hand on Hawke's shoulder, as her pained expression gave her away. "It wasn't your fault, Lana," she soothed, "I know you blame yourself. You always do."

"Occupational hazard," Hawke said grimly, rolling her eyes. Leliana grinned knowingly.

"You really need to stop taking on these burdens. This is supposed to be the beginning of the end for you, after all your adventures. Maker, you're so lucky to have made it this far! Won't you at least give settling down a chance?"

Hawke met her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean is it really necessary in the middle of a war with a God to go meandering across the world just to inform someone that their husband is dead?" Leliana implored, looking exasperated.

"She's my friend!" Hawke argued, as Leliana walked away from her, shaking her head, marvelling at the daring plan.

"Exactly!" she spun back around then, fire in her eyes. "And maybe that fact that Aveline doesn't know anything about what has happened to the other Grey Wardens is what's keeping her alive. Did you ever take that into consideration before running off into the night?"

"I have to inform Weisshaupt what has happened, Leliana. I _have_ to tell Aveline that yet another of her husbands has died! I can't have this hanging over me. I'd never forgive myself. Aveline deserves better than that!"

"But walking into Weisshaupt Fortress again, after everything that happened there last time—"

"You and Cassandra were the ones hunting me then," Hawke reminded her.

"And do you remember your escape? How many Grey Warden's did you kill, Lana?" Leliana countered.

Hawke pursed her lips. She'd forgotten about that in her haste to go back to Weisshaupt. Four Grey Wardens had been poisoned on her orders. She, Varric and Isabela had been pretty relentless in their quest for revenge. Isabela's had died in the tavern, and the three that Hawke had seduced left with her as the poison kicked in. She recalled watching each of them die, some rather publically.

"I did that for you. Those men had planned to assault you, hadn't they?" Hawke argued, replaying a particular night she and Leliana had spent together there that made her skin crawl. She could still hear the creep's voices in her head as they spoke about forcing themselves on Leliana, choosing who would go first as they hunted for her in the fortress.

"I remember only too well, and I appreciated it," Leliana replied, "But there were witnesses in that tavern who could place you at the scene once those bodies were found and the murders investigated. Just because you escaped the first time, doesn't mean there aren't going to be repercussions if you return."

"But Aveline—"

"Aveline's husband is dead," Leliana interrupted with a harsh finality, before Hawke could put up another defence. "I'm sorry, Lana, I'm so sorry but it's true! Donnic is dead. Running off to the Anderfels isn't going to change that. You need to be smarter than this."

"But—"

"The Wardens in Weisshaupt could already be infected by Corypheus by the time you reach them, or they may have planned some sort of retribution for the murders you committed back then, knowing you might one day return to visit your friend...or even for the hundreds you've killed since Adamant! You're a wanted woman wherever you go, Lana, don't you see this?!"

Hawke slunk down onto the desk chair, as the weight of her problems crashed down upon her. They were never-ending. Leliana crossed the room towards her. Hawke felt Leliana's fingers run through her hair then, and closed her eyes, burying her head in the warmth of the Spymaster's robes. Leliana held her, continuing to stroke her head as it rested against her abdomen.

"Aveline needs to know," came Hawke's muffled mutter. "She needs to, Lel. Its eating away at me that I couldn't save him."

"Then let me tell her," Leliana insisted. "You've done more than enough. Let me send the Wardens a raven with the news of the Calling, and send one to Aveline about Donnic. Then job done." She crouched down in front of Hawke and took her hands in hers, scanning her careworn features, her blue eyes pleading silently. "You're tired, Lana. The world has stolen so much of you. Don't let it take the last piece."

"I'm fine," Hawke replied with resolute stubbornness. "I have to go."

"No, you don't," Leliana disagreed, squeezing her tighter to stop her from retreating.

"Then I _want_ to go!" Hawke corrected.

"Whether you want to go or not is irrelevant. You have no idea what's going on in Weisshaupt, Hawke. I'm begging you! Send Aveline a raven to meet you at a neutral location if you must tell her yourself, but do not go to Weisshaupt Fortress. For all you know you'll be trapped, court-martialled even!" Leliana warned. "And even if Weisshaupt is untouched by the war at this moment, by the time you reach it after whatever obstacles you encounter along the way, that situation could have changed rapidly for the worse."

"Then I'll make sure there are no obstacles!"

"With Isabela there are always obstacles," Leliana stated. She took Hawke's face in her hands, tracing the marks of hundreds of battles. "Lana, for every scar you have, there are a thousand enemies waiting to kill you. Let me send a raven in your stead. You've cheated death on so many occasions. Blood and damnation, don't tempt fate anymore than you already have."

In that moment, Navarre appeared at the top of the stairs. Leliana and Hawke immediately distanced themselves from each other, but the elf didn't seem to be that oblivious to their closeness now.

"My...apologies," Navarre said a little coldly, "I didn't mean to interrupt, but I was hoping to speak to Leliana alone and Isabela was looking for you."

"Of course," Hawke said, reaching for her crutches and heaving herself up onto her one good leg. "I'll leave you to it."

"I'll be down to see you off, Hawke," Leliana promised, watching her hobble to the staircase. "All of the Inner Circle will meet you in the courtyard to give you our thanks for what you've done. Don't leave without letting us say our goodbyes."

Hawke didn't answer. She carefully descended the spiralled staircase out of sight, then sank onto the bottom step, hearing the Hero of Ferelden and Leliana's voices echoing from above. Curious, Hawke found herself listening. Too interested to fear being caught, she strained her ears, knowing that if she was leaving Leliana for good, she would at least like to know that she was finally happy with the woman she loved, the woman she was really meant to be with instead of Hawke.

 _What do people say to one another after a decade of believing the other to be dead?_

Leliana's voice became clearer as it echoed down the stairs. "...didn't think you'd give me the chance to explain all this," she was saying. "I'm still struggling to believe that you're standing right here in front of me."

"It hasn't exactly been easy for me since coming here," Navarre replied. "I didn't know you and this Hawke had been so close...as close as we used to be."

"It was too painful to speak of her after Lothering," Leliana admitted. "I feel in love with you during the Blight which helped me forget. When Hawke and I crossed paths again, I already believed you to be dead, Navarre. I didn't intentionally keep it from you, but Hawke was once an important part of my life."

"You love her," Navarre stated. There was no question, only fact. It was there for all to see.

Silence followed, then, "Yes," came Leliana's faint reply.

As Hawke sat listening on the bottom step, she felt her chocolate-brown eyes well up with sadness as she heard Leliana profess her love for her even now.

"And she loves you?" Navarre asked.

 _Yes,_ Hawke thought to herself, her bottom lip quivering. _Maker, yes._

Leliana didn't reply this time.

"I know this may seem hard to believe," Navarre continued, "And I'd never admit this to her myself, but the Champion of Kirkwall has my deepest respect."

"Really?" Leliana asked surprised. Hawke, too, was stunned. She had presumed Navarre hated her. The elf was rather intimidating, even if you didn't include the fact that she'd slain an Arch Demon. She was beautiful and fierce, but Leliana had obviously seen a softer side to her.

"Hawke's... not like most Shemlen," Navarre continued, "Although I don't know her personally, but after travelling with her for a short time, I have grown to admire her skills. She sets her own rules, as I do. Hawke is a true warrior. If she can keep hold of someone like Isabela, then she must be exceptionally strong-willed...And to have won your heart so powerfully, even after all this time, you must have found her to be of worthy and noble traits."

"She deserves better than I," Leliana said. "As do you, my love. Maker, I have made so many mistakes in my life, but giving up on you was the biggest. Why did I ever leave you in Amaranthine? I never should have made the decisions that got us here. Blood of Andraste!"

"Leliana, you can't keep second-guessing decisions that were made a decade ago. It is what it is."

"No," Leliana scolded herself. "I should have retired from this madness after the Blight, just as Hawke should have done after Kirkwall. Yet here we are, two women, two broken heroes, riding on the coattails of dreams of a happier time, hoping to make the world a better place but only making it a worse one."

Below, Hawke broke into full sobs then, leaning her temple against the stone wall beside her. Leliana's words had completely unravelled her, for they were the Maker's honest truth.

"No," Navarre disagreed, "You're doing what you always do, Leliana. Women like you and Hawke, like you and I, we will always have causes to pursue. It's who we are. I never really understood that before, ever since the day I left my clan, but I do now."

"Watching Hawke suffer at the hands of the force that drives her, and then watching her and Isabela together in that tavern in Denerim, laughing and joking together with their friends to try and paper up the cracks that killing and marauding does to a person. Well it helped me realise that that's why those two are perfect for each other. They remember to come up for air after all the madness...You and I never did that, Leliana. We lived in a different time after the Blight. It was a mix of chaos and relief. We just never got a moment to be ourselves."

"I...you're right," Leliana admitted. "Maybe we will finally, once all this is over."

"I'll make sure to come and find you when it does."

"Wh-what are you saying?" Leliana stammered. "Are you...leaving...?"

Hawke's sobs paused and she straightened up, her heart thumping wildly. _No...No she can't leave...This isn't how it's supposed to end._

"I am afraid I have to," Navarre informed Leliana. "I'm a Grey Warden after all."

"Wh-where will you go?" Leliana gasped. Hawke could hear the ache in her voice.

"Don't cry," Navarre told her, "I'm going to find a cure for the Taint. I don't want to be a Grey Warden anymore, Leliana, not after everything I've seen here. Not after it stole what we could have had these last ten years or so...It was all for nothing. The Wardens are finished thanks to Corypheus. I don't want to be a part of that life anymore. I want to be with you."

"Then...you're c-coming back to me?" Leliana asked, unable to hide the longing in her voice.

"That's the plan," Navarre replied. Hawke could hear the smile in her tone then and the weight on her chest lessened. "I cannot deny how much I love you any longer, Leliana, as stubborn as I am. But you have to let Hawke go, just as I had to let Tamlen go. They both had a time and place, but it just wasn't to be."

"Navarre," Leliana sobbed in laughter. "I don't deserve you after everything I did. You have every right to hate me still."

"I'm tired of hate. I had ten years of it," Navarre informed her, "I've never been great at expressing how I feel, have I? But just know that once I leave this fortress to finish my quest, I'll leave with nothing but thoughts of you."

Hawke felt a hand touch her shoulder then and opened her tear-stained eyes to find Isabela smiling down at her. She hadn't heard her arrive.

"I think we should leave them to it, Sweetness," she muttered, having overheard the last of the conversation and realising Hawke was ear-wigging. "Come."

The pirate slipped her hand into Lana's and tugged her up off the floor, handing her back her crutches. Hawke wanted to know more, she wanted to make sure Leliana was ok, to berate the Hero of Ferelden for leaving. She had to let her know that no cause was good enough to bereft Leliana of the happiness that she had been seeking for so long...but Isabela was dragging Hawke away quickly now, as though she had read her mind and was trying to prevent such a thing from happening. The Admiral's grip on her waist was strong. It was only after a few more minutes had passed, that Hawke realised Isabela was taking her, not to the tavern, as would normally have been the case in a tough situation, but across the outer wall straight up to their bed chamber. It was shock at this, more than anything that had happened this day that made Lana reluctant to fight her.

Isabela closed the door to the bedroom behind them and forced Lana down on the settee in front of the fire in a sitting position. She pulled her daggers from their scabbards on her back and hung them, along with her own, on the weapons rack by the door. It was only then that she spoke.

"I know you want to help...But you can't. This isn't your concern."

This roused Lana from her dazed paralysis. "Isn't my concern?" she repeated, her voice raising. She glared at Isabela as though having misheard her. "Navarre is-!"

"I know she's planning to leave again," Isabela interrupted. She regained her composure then, going back to a soft voice. "She told me over drinks this morning. I know you want to try and help, like always, but it's none of your damned business," She sighed. "Leliana," she began again, "is none of your damned business, Hawke."

Lana's face contorted into fury. "What are you getting at?" she demanded, "Why are you looking at me that way?"

"You know perfectly well why!" Isabela challenged, failing to keep her temper in check now. "Do you not think I know, after everything, how much you care for that woman?"

Hawke opened her mouth to reply then closed it again. Isabela knew more than anyone the depths of her connection with Leliana.

"I'm s-sorry," Hawke sniffed, wiping the wetness from her cheek, head bowed in embarrassment. "I just can't believe it's really goodbye this time."

Isabela sat down beside her and kissed her on the head.

"I know, Sweetness, but I have to admit, I'm rather looking forward to placing some distance between us and Leliana again."

"None of this has been easy for you," Hawke sympathised, resting her head on Isabela's shoulder. "But you've been more understanding than I ever thought you could be."

"Well, it was either that or lose you," Isabela sighed. "But the day you forget about Leliana will be a day for celebration, Hawke, and you'll be buying the drinks."

Hawke smiled. "I owe you that much at least."

"Too right, you do," The pirate got up and began to pack their things, "Lets discuss the plan to get to Weisshaupt, shall we? I really think we should set sail. Travelling on land is just so...boring and-"

"We're not going."

Isabela did a double take. "What? What do you mean? What about breaking the bad news to the Big Girl?"

Hawke explained to her the conversation that she'd had earlier with Leliana. Isabela folded her arms, thinking it over.

"I suppose that makes sense," she relented, "So then, where are we going?"

"We'll sort out the traitor in your crew, and then set sail to whichever crevice Lachlan Poole is holed up in. I'll tell Leliana to send a raven to Aveline. At least if she is in potential danger, the raven will bring her news about the Warden's demise quicker than us and give her time to escape. As for Donnic," Hawke hesitated, "Well, I guess Leliana has a point. I thought that me going to Weisshaupt to tell Aveline in person would somehow soften the blow, or make up for Donnic dying instead of me...It won't bring him back though. He's gone."

Isabela's smile was sympathetic. "I think that's the best decision, sweet thing. I really do. Aveline isn't really one for big emotional gestures anyway, is she? Receiving the news in a letter may be better than seeing the emotional distress its caused you in person as well. You know you couldn't have saved him, don't you?"

"What if she blames me, Bela?" Hawke stared up at her helplessly.

"Then she's a bloody idiot," Isabela answered with her usual bluntness. "And I'll kick her steel-covered bollocks up and down Weisshaupt Fortress for even thinking it."

Hawke laughed despite herself. "What would I ever do without you?"

"I could probably give you a few pointers," Isabela winked.

Hawke couldn't help but chuckle. Thinking now of Navarre's words, she realised the elf was right. Isabela's humour had always been something to scoop her up out of the darkness when things got rough. It was what had kept her going all these years, and it would continue that way whatever amount of time they had left in them.

"I love you, Isabela."

"I know," the pirate responded. "I still think you're crazy for it, but I suppose that's why I love you back. You always did know how to keep me on my toes."

"And on your hands and knees," Hawke joked.

Isabela sniggered. "You've spent your fair share of time at my beck and call as well, Sweetness. After all my antics, you never did master the art of saying no to me. I wouldn't have blamed you for kicking me out of bed sometimes but you never could resist my charms."

"The only reason I'd kick you out of bed would be to ride you on the floor."

"Oo and with sweet talk like that who could resist?" Isabela teased with a grin. "What do you say, Sweetness, one last frolic in Skyhold before we disappear into the distance for a happily ever after quest?"

Hawke slipped her bralet from under her shirt and flung it across the room. "You're move, Admiral."


	31. An Admiral's Business: Part Two

**_A/N: Merry Christmas (to the guest reviewer who requested more chapters as a gift). Second last chapter ever of Hawke and Isabela's story here. It is with a heavy heart that I add that the last chapter is finished however its quite long so I need to go over it again tomorrow before uploading. I'll be sad to see the end of this story but I'm writing an original story heavily inspired by it with the intention of getting published and I need to devote all of my time to it. So this is it for Lana and Isabela. Hope you enjoy this second last chapter! Its been a long ride. We're almost at the end :'(_**

* * *

"Remember when you walked in on Cullen pounding your little sister like a-?"

"I will throw you overboard your own ship, Isabela, don't think I won't!"

Hawke heard the Admiral laughing from the helm of The Eider's Cry. Two weeks at sea with her was as eventful as ever and whenever Isabela felt a lull in the conversation she proceeded to remind Hawke of a sight she'd rather forget just to get a rise out of her.

 _Not to mention amuse herself._

"Are you still moping about leaving Skyhold?" Isabela asked when her most recent bout of laughter had subsided.

"I'm not moping!"

"Bullshit! You've been crying inwardly for days. Thank The Maker it has been silent. Just let it go, sweet thing. There's much more adventure to be had out here on the open seas and we definitely overstayed our welcome there."

Hawke sighed. _Maybe she's right._ "What are you going to do about the traitor amongst us then?" she muttered, walking closer to the Admiral to prevent them from being overheard by the crew working tirelessly around them. She slipped her arms around Isabela from behind and rested her chin on her shoulder as the sea breeze picked up. The Admiral's blue coat was always so warm and inviting, especially considering the woman inside it was wearing next to nothing.

"Oh, I have something in motion," Isabela informed her, holding her red hat as the wind threatened to dislodge it. "Jackson has been whispering in my ear over who it might be and we both agree on the candidate."

"How do you know it isn't him?" Hawke replied, eyeing the huge First-Mate Jackson and his bulging muscles as he swung from the rigging overhead. He was a fearsome raider, much like his Admiral. There was no reason to stop him from taking over this ship, no one standing in his way apart from Isabela. Was he really that loyal to her?

"Intuition," Isabela reassured her. "It's gotten me this far. Why should I start doubting it now?"

"You really think one of your own men slipped that artefact into your bag on this Ser Tadeus' orders?"

"I know someone did. There isn't anyone who could get as close to me as those on my own ship. Don't try to talk me out of my plan, Hawke." Isabela gave her a glance, that same one she gave when it sounded like someone was disagreeing with her on her own ship.

"Bela, I'm not one of your crew so don't think that will work on me," Hawke warned, recognising the expression. She withdrew her arm from around her waist and retreated across the deck to the starboard side, grasping the wooden rail of the ship. "I'm entitled to question you as a partner. We risk starting a war in the east, while one against a God already rages on as a result of our actions in Kirkwall. Don't make me regret this more than I already do."

Thinking of Bethany and all that she had left behind in Ferelden, Hawke cast her mind back to the last time she and her sister had spoken.

* * *

"I need to make sure."

Hawke found it hard to look at the only remaining member of her family. This wasn't the way things were supposed to end between them, leaving Bethany in the middle of a battle for the end of the world with an ex-Templar and an unstable Inquisition that had pissed off just about every faction in Thedas.

"I am sure, sister," Bethany assured her. "Cullen is a great man. Deep down you know this."

"No—"

"You are blinded by hatred!" Bethany yelled, pounding her fist on the vanity table in her room, ignoring an empty goblet that she sent cascading to the floor. "Remember all those shady jobs we did after arriving in Kirkwall? Did I ever question you? I knew they were dangerous and stupid, but I stuck by you and trusted you knew what you were doing. All I'm asking is that you now do the same for me. It's not that hard."

"Bethany—"

"No, Lana! It's time you start looking at me like the woman that I am instead of just your little sister. I'm tired of it."

"I watched you grow up." There was a profound sadness in Hawke's tone that Bethany couldn't ignore, but it wasn't going to work this time.

"Well, somewhere along the line you looked away," Bethany replied, equally as dejected. She leaned on the corner of the vanity table while Hawke sank onto the bed, staring down at the floor.

"Maybe you're right, Beth, but I had to after Cullen stole you from me, don't forget. He put you in those wretched Gallows. He separated us! So don't expect me to be jumping for joy because you've suddenly found out he's a really good shag."

Bethany grumbled. "You're _such_ a hypocrite, do you know that?"

"How so?"

"Gallivanting around with Leliana behind my back for starters!"

"That's not—"

"Yes, it is!" Bethany interrupted before Hawke could protest. "I eventually forgave you for that. All I'm asking is that you forgive me for this. I thought you already had. Maker, why did you have to bring it up again. The night you caught us together—"

"Ugh, don't remind me."

"I'm sure you've seen worse." Bethany rolled her eyes. "I'm staying here, Lana. I'm staying with the Commander. Nothing you say or do will change my mind. The days of me following your every move are over. I will support Cullen and the Inquisition in this war with Corypheus. They need me. _He_ needs me! I love him, Lana."

"Then it's a good thing I'm leaving, because I can't stick around to watch it."

Hawke got to her feet and made a beeline for the door. Bethany instantly slammed it shut.

"Don't you dare leave in a bad mood! Don't you dare! Why do you always have to start an argument? Why can't you just give me a hug like a normal person and wish us all the best?"

Hawke stared into her eyes and finally managed a half-smile. "Because it's easier to argue instead of giving into the tears and the fact that I might never see you again..."

Bethany flung her arms around her so hard she almost knocked her over. She buried her face in her elder sister's embrace and immediately broke down in sobs. Hawk stroked her long black hair, relishing her scent, a scent that would soon be nothing more than a memory once she departed for the open ocean.

"D-don't s-say that!" Bethany cried. "Don't m-make this harder than it already is."

"I don't know when we'll meet again, but write to me and let me know you're still alive. Leliana's ravens will find me," Hawke whispered, closing her eyes and hugging her as hard as she could. "Look after her, won't you?"

"Of course. I'll miss you every day that you're gone."

"Same here. Just promise me you'll be careful."

"I will!"

Bethany finally released her. She backed away and dried her cheeks with the back of her hand. Her swimming eyes met her sister's chocolate-brown ones and she gave her a small grin.

"Love you, Bethany. I'll get the bastard that tried to take you away from me."

"Lana—"

"Not talking about Cullen!" Hawke laughed.

"Oh!" Bethany realised she meant the one who had slipped the artefact that had possessed her into Isabela's rucksack. "Good...And thank you. I almost succumbed to a nightmare that has haunted me since childhood. I was foolish to listen to that demon."

"It all worked out in the end," Hawke replied. "Don't beat yourself up over it."

"I'm starting to think it was no coincidence that you found me in The Fade. You were destined to be a protector... My protector."

"I was just in the right place at the right time," Hawke joked. "Makes a change, doesn't it?" They both laughed. "Anyway, I'll leave before I get angry again. I'd prefer we leave things on good terms like this."

"Me too," Bethany agreed. "Now get out there and do some exploring. I'll see you again someday, I promise."

"Give Charade and little Lana my best if you see them," Hawke smiled. She leaned in and placed a stream of kisses on Bethany's face, pulling her into one last, loving hug and then rushed out the door before her sister saw her tears.

* * *

Antiva City finally loomed in the distance after a gruelling month or so at sea. The weather definitely hadn't been on their side, and Hawke couldn't wait to set foot on dry land. Isabela guided The Eider's Cry into the docks and the crew began to disembark.

"Ugh, I don't know about you, Isabela, but my stomach doesn't feel right," Hawke complained, rubbing her swollen belly. Isabela was packing her luggage as well as her own into one suitcase for them to take to the nearest tavern. She laughed at Hawke, seeing she looked ready to explode.

"I told you not to eat that dead gull."

"I was starving!" Hawke protested. "I can't eat the fish the rest of you eat. I'm allergic to most of them."

Isabela laughed again and rolled her eyes, continuing emptying their wardrobe in the Captain's Quarters until the suitcase was full. She closed it shut with a snap and dragged it off the bed with one strong pull, guiding Hawke up with the other.

"Come on, sweetness, it's not too far from our destination."

"I can't go out like this!" As if on cue, Hawke's stomach made an audible complaint of its own. "Do me a favour, will you? Keep the crew up on deck so I can get some privacy. This isn't going to be pleasant."

"What makes you think you're going to _my_ water closet?"

"Our water closet," Hawke corrected, trying to escape to the chamber pot.

"It's my ship, and you're holding it until we disembark, Hawke. You relieve yourself in there and we'll not be able to sleep in here for weeks."

"Bela-!"

"Wait until you get to the tavern!"

Hawke tried not to think about it. She followed Isabela back up on deck and, true to the Admiral's words, it wasn't too far from their destined tavern. Once they had bought an en-suite room, it wasn't long until the door was locked and Hawke was settled on the bowl with a book about dragons propped on her lap.

"How's it going?" Isabela laughed from the other side. She heard the sound of flushing water and and clattering of pots and Hawke appeared in the doorway looking rather vulnerable. "Maker's ballbag, you look terrible!"

Hawke grimaced. "If you're planning on taking a piss in there I'd leave it a while."

"I've never been attracted to you less," Isabela wrinkled her nose and closed the water closet door.

Hawke didn't even have the energy to respond. She collapsed in a ball onto the welcoming king-sized bed with a groan. Isabela, taking pity on her despite finding it hilarious, wrapped the bed cover around her from both sides and kissed her sweaty forehead.

"Rest for a bit while I handle that business with Jackson."

"But I want to be there," Hawke protested weakly. "I want to know if the guy you're interrogating is really the traitor."

"Trust me, Hawke. I can handle this by myself," Isabela reassured her, patting her head. "This isn't my first time. Just get some sleep."

Having too little energy to protest much, Hawke finally conceded that Isabela had the situation under control. "Fine," she whimpered. "Just make him pay."

Isabela winked in response and gave her one last kiss before getting up off the bed and retreating downstairs to the rowdy tavern.

* * *

"Oh, Sprug. Sprugy, Sprug, Sprug, what are we going to do with you?"

The scrawny pirate screamed muffled insults at her, his mouth stuffed with a rather dirty piece of cloth. Isabela circled him, tracing a finger across his shoulder playfully. Torture had never really appealed to her as much as duelling outright, but she had flirted with the idea ever since all the evidence pointed to Sprug being the traitor amongst her crew.

"Admiral, did you hear that?" Jackson pretended. "I think he said he wanted to confess."

"You think so?" Isabela played along. "Because I thought it sounded like—" She slid her foot slowly between the scraggly sailor's legs, pressing down on his crown jewels. The wooden chair he was tied to creaked under him as she applied pressure with a certain expertise. Sprug howled like a mabari hound. In the corner, Jackson cupped his own privates, unable to prevent sympathising with the man.

Feeling he'd had enough for the time behind, Isabela retracted her foot as Sprug went red in the face. "Now," she continued, while the man caught his breath. "I think when I take the sock out of your mouth this time you might tell me something useful. Let's see, shall we?"

She pinched the corner of the cloth and pulled it out. Sprug coughed and heaved a mouthful of air.

"I'm tellin ya, Admiral! I ain't done nuffing wro-OK! OK!" He screamed, changing his response as Isabela raised her foot in threat again. "Just not me nads, a'right?"

"Tell me, then, how much did Lachlan Poole pay you to betray me?" Isabela enquired. "That's your only way out of here, Sprug. Either that or Jackson will crush your tiny skull in one hand and shove it up your jaxy."

Jackson cracked his knuckles and Sprug shivered under his shadow. His bloodshot eyes stared back at Isabela then and he sighed. "I didn't wanna do it, Admiral. I swear it! But he threatened me! Said he 'urt me kids if I didn't!"

"You haven't got any kids!" Isabela bellowed. "Your balls weren't working well before _I_ squeezed them to death." She hit him across the face.

"Ugh! Stop it! Lachlan didn't pay me nuffin, woman! Get your bleedin' 'ands off me!"

"Wrong answer!" Jackson growled, lunging forward and landing a big beefy fist in Sprug's face. The sound of a shattering nose cracked in the cellar of tavern and the nearby barrels of ale were sprayed with blood.

"Why did Sister Nightingale of the Inquisition think that Lachlan was involved, Sprug?" Isabela pressed on. "I know she got her information from you. No one on my crew speaks a word of my plans to any outsider, but you were always the weak link. You broke rule number four."

"Four?" Jackson repeated as though having misheard, one eyebrow raised in her direction.

"Correct," Isabela grinned. "Number one: don't mess with Isabela. Number two: Don't stare at Hawke's ass. Number three: Don't steal any pirate's toast...And Number Four: Don't speak to anyone about the Admiral's plans or she'll stamp on your balls until you sing like a bitch."

She pressed her foot down on Sprug's testicles again until he gave an example. Jackson's menacing laugh reverberated in the cavernous cellar of the tavern.

"Why did you speak to Sister Nightingale?" Isabela demanded, squeezing Sprug's face so that he had no choice but to stare into the pits of fury in her eyes. "What did Lachlan want by killing me? Why have another do the job?"

"I don't know I swear!"

Furious, Isabela released him. Jackson, losing his patience again, swung another punch at the captive.

"Argh! A'right, a'right! I'll tell ya both the truth! Maker's breath! Call of the bloody giant!" Sprug whimpered.

Isabela exchanged a glance with Jackson, silently ordering him to step down. He obliged, crossing his chiselled arms and recomposed himself as piss streamed down Sprug's legs, forming a puddle on the stone floor.

"Speak, Sprug. I don't have all day," Isabela ordered. "How much did Lachlan pay you?"

"A hundred Sovereigns, Admiral, but the coin didn't come from him directly."

"What do you mean?"

Sprug took a second before answering, then obliged, realising he had no choice. "It was Ser Tadeus, Isabela. My coin came from 'im."

"What? Why would Tad try to have me possessed?"

"Well, Lachkan was too scared to kill you outright, knowing your crew would 'unt 'im down. This way, 'e got what 'e wanted and Tadeus would get away scot free."

"Tad didn't want to do it, did he? That's why he paid you. And where is Tad now?"

"I dunno."

 _*Smack*_

"Where is he, Sprug!"

 _Smack*_

"Argh! He's still in Antiva! I-I can set up a meeting," Sprug stammered as Isabela massaged her now bleeding fist. "Just let me go, Admiral. Please! I'm beggin ya!"

Isabela considered him. She pursed her lips, wondering if it was worth the risk. "Fine," she said finally. "Fine... Set up a meeting with Ser Tadeus tonight, here in this very tavern. Set it up, and I'll let you live."

"Admiral?" Jackson questioned. Isabela cast him a silencing stare and his head dropped respectfully.

"Jackson, go with him. Make sure he doesn't try to escape with his worthless life before getting in touch with Tad. In fact, I want him along for the meeting too. He can run off to the nearest whore house with his pay off when this meet has concluded."

"Yes, Admiral."

Isabela took one last, scathing look at Sprug then withdrew her dagger. Sprug leaned backwards in the chair as she held it out in threat. His mouth began to quiver with fear, until Isabela reached behind him and cut his arms free. "Cross me again, and I'll skin you alive. Understand?"

"Y-yes, Admiral. I'm s-so sorry. I should have never betrayed ya."

"No, you shouldn't have," Isabela said coldly. "You owe me a debt. And in case this little cosy chat was too subtle for you, don't ever think about setting foot on my ship again. You'll be hanging from the rafters until the crows eat the flesh off your bones."

"Y-yessir! Thank you, sir!"

Isabela caught the clean cloth that Jackson tossed her for her bleeding knuckles and she held it on them, turning and leaving the cellar, already planning the next part of this vengeful trip they had set out on.

* * *

"So you were right?" Hawke asked, when Isabela had finished telling her the tale. The Admiral had her back against the mahogany headboard, legs stretched out across the bed beside Lana's feeble body that was still cocooned in the covers.

"I'm always right," Isabela replied. Her voice was cold and serious as she stared at her swollen knuckles, dabbing them still. Sprug's remaining teeth had really done a number on them. Hawke straightened up in bed as best she could without feeling queasy again. She placed a warm hand on Isabela's thigh.

"I'm sorry if you think I doubted you," she apologised. "I just wanted to be sure before we went around stringing people up from the rafters."

"I'm not in the business of making sure, Hawke. I trust my instincts and follow them, and more often than not they lead me to the right conclusion."

"And I should let you follow them instead of interfering, is that what you're getting at?" Hawke guessed.

Isabela sighed. Something else seemed to be bothering her.

"Bela, talk to me. What have I done wrong?"

"Nothing," Isabela replied. "It's not you, I just... Sometimes I think our relationship has made me a bit complacent."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Isabela puffed, shaking her head and looking up at the decor of their temporary residence. "I feel like I've become a bit..Maker, I don't know...Soft?"

"Didn't you just squeeze the balls of an impotent little scoundrel and then rearrange his face with your fist?" Hawke chuckled, bewildered at how much Isabela's mood had changed so drastically in the last hour or so.

"Yes, well, years ago I'd have done a lot worse."

"True, and then we wouldn't have had the next part of our plan, would we?" Hawke replied. She took the woman's face in her hands, peering into her amber eyes. "You're still as impulsive and instinctive as the first day I met you, Isabela. You just know how to utilize it better now. What use would it have been to kill Sprug there and then? We might never have found Ser Tadeus was involved if you had. Now we have a meeting set up and a chance to get the truth from another shithead responsible for putting my sister in harm's way."

Isabela finally smiled her crooked grin, placated by her words. "Thanks, Hawke. I suppose you're right."

Hawke placed a soft kiss on her lips, long and lingering. Then suddenly she heaved and covered her mouth.

"Wow!" Isabela recoiled, holding her off then. "To the Void with you, sweetness. Stay far over there!" She backed off the other side of the bed as Hawke curled into a ball again, moaning and holding her stomach. "Are you sure you're going to be able to come to this meeting with Tad tonight? Maybe I should go alone."

"No!" Hawke blurted, her eyes still closed as she succumbed to another bout of nausea. "I have to be there. I have to do this...for Bethany."

"I'm sure Bethany would understand," Isabela chuckled, getting up to fix herself a drink from the crystal decanter on a nearby chest of drawers. "You can barely move a muscle. How are you going to negotiate with a master manipulator like Tad if you can't even stand up straight?"

"I've held meetings with self-important pricks before," Hawke grumbled.

Isabela sniggered. "Fine," she said, returning to the bed, whiskey-glass in hand. "Then there are a few things we should go over before tonight. Sit up again, sweetness, and take note. I'm going to explain to you how a real pirate handles business."


	32. Bittersweet Goodbyes

**_A/N: As with every final chapter, I'll save my real notes for the end. For one last time, hope you all enjoy ;)_**

* * *

"Seriously? _That's_ how pirates negotiate?" Hawke scoffed. "That just sounds like a big string of insults, Isabela."

"Well, because that's what it is," Isabela replied after demonstrating a role play for her benefit. "See, both crews crowd around a table full of drink and listen to the rendezvous. The goal is basically to slag off the other with witty one liners much to the approval of the audience."

"But I don't see what that achieves!" Hawke laughed. "How are we supposed to find out if Tad placed that cursed artefact on you and why he wanted you dead?"

"That comes later," Isabela said, rolling her eyes. "You can't just climax in the beginning before having a little foreplay, Hawke. Maker, I have a lot to teach you before tonight, don't I?"

" _You_ have a lot to teach _me?"_ Hawke tittered with raucous disbelief. "Need I remind you how your last dinner went back in Skyhold? Don't think to tell me how to behave around a table."

Isabela folded her arms in defiance as Hawke launched into a story.

* * *

"So…you're all going to a party in Orlais, and we're not invited?"

Isabela glanced around at the Inquisition elite, sounding rather disappointed. It was the final meal before leaving Skyhold and the whole trip hadn't been as fun as she'd thought it would be. Hawke tended to agree. _Almost dying while your sister succumbs to a demon will definitely dampen the mood unfortunately._ It was much too gloom and doom for her and Isabela's tastes, hence why they were heading back east to raid and pillage and overthrow Lachlan Poole.

"Surely we could have helped, Leliana," Hawke agreed. "I never miss the opportunity for a good soiree, and it sounds like we'll get the chance to see The Game played up close and personal the way it was meant to be."

"Dancing under the threat of assassination! What could be better?" Isabela quipped in.

"This is an official Inquisition matter," Cassandra answered importantly, while Leliana smiled at Hawke across them table, knowing thoroughly well that neither she nor Isabela would simply stand around and watch The Game unfold. They'd have half of Orlais turning against each other just for the fun of it and somehow take off with half the palace jewels. "We can't have you come along, not with your reputation and your... other half's."

Everyone turned to Isabela pointedly, as the pirate sat picking a bit of chicken out of her teeth. She glanced up, realising they were all staring.

"What? I haven't made any waves at all tonight. I've been on my best bloody behaviour and it's...well, boring!"

"Precisely why you and Hawke are not invited!" Cassandra boomed. "It wouldn't be long before you'd start getting 'bored' again and causing mayhem, much like you did here in your unsupervised hours."

"You can't really blame me, Seeker. You're the ones who kept throwing me in the brig over and over," Isabela protested. "The only tight spaces I like to be in are Hawke's."

Varric, Hawke, Iron Bull, Dorian and Leliana snorted into their dinners as the rest of the Inquisition officials cringed over their meals. The Great Hall fell silent, and a few noble patrons glared down the table in Isabela's direction. They were expressions that she was well used to at this point. Every formal dinner she had attended had gone something the similar to this one.

"Charming," Cullen disapproved, shaking his head. "It's probably best you don't go, now that I really think about it. I don't think Orlais is ready for the so-called Queen of The Eastern Seas"

"Like I want to really," Isabela said with heavy sarcasm. "Imagine going to one of those pompous Orlesian parties and hiding behind a ridiculous mask and a poufy dress. I'd feel so underdressed in my usual attire."

" _Undressed_ , you mean." Cassandra scoffed as the pirate's bare skin drew a few looks from the nobility, much as it always did. "I mean honestly, aren't you at least a little cold? Maker, be praised! It's snowing outside!"

"Well, unlike you, _I_ don't need to hide from the world by encasing myself in steel up to my eyebrows," Isabela mocked, ogling the Seeker's armour with contempt. "I mean honestly, who do you think is going to attack you in the middle of such a horribly civilised dinner? These forks are as blunt as a Dwarven axe otherwise I might have attempted it myself, but I bet I couldn't even carve my name into that shiny breast plate of yours let alone pierce it."

"In case you hadn't notice, we're in the middle of a war," Cassandra argued. "It would be smart to wear something more that a dirty shirt and thigh high boots. What do you think you're going to do should Corypheus show up? Seduce him?"

"That's not a bad idea. Has anyone actually tried that yet?"

"Eugh! What's the point in even talking to you?" Cassandra wondered to herself with a shake of the head. "I give up!"

"Well that's not very sporting of you. We're only on the main course. Who am I supposed to argue with over dessert?" Isabela joked. "Don't hold back, Seeker."

"Right! I should just be like you and let it all hang out so everyone knows what they're getting upfront."

"That's the spirit! With your tits all cooped up like that you need a good mouth on you."

"Say that again and I'll _smack_ the mouth off you!"

"Catfight? _Caaatfiiiiiiight!"_ Hawke laughed, banging her cutlery off the table top as Varric and a few of the others chuckled.

"We're not fighting. We just… _getting reacquainted_ ," Cassandra stated matter-of-factly. "Isn't that right, Queen Isabela?"

"That's right, man-chin. Now back your steel covered bollocks up, before I consider staying in Skyhold as a permanent pain in your ass."

That shut Cassandra up rightly.

"Well played, Rivaini. You've actually managed to silence the Seeker," Varric chuckled. "You know, I really am going to miss this when you go."

* * *

Later in the present day in Antiva, Isabela sat at the table in the tavern where she was to meet with Ser Tadeus. Hawke was standing by her side. She smiled, remembering that last feast back in Skyhold sitting with Varric, Bethany and the rest of the Inquisition and having a good laugh like the old days. Cassandra had really started to resemble Aveline in the fact that most of Isabela's insults were thrown her way. The Seeker had a bit more bite than the old Guard Captain of Kirkwall. Varric would be missed though. That dwarf would always have a soft spot in both their hearts. Isabela hoped that he would be alright, left in the middle of the current warzone that was Ferelden.

Focusing on tonight's meet with Ser Tadeus, Isabela pushed fond memories of Varric to the back of her mind. She was more aware than usual of Hawke's touch, feeling the woman's hand resting on her shoulder as they sat waiting for the face to face that Sprug was supposed to set up. One glance up at her, and Hawke removed her hand.

"Don't," Isabela said this time, taking it in hers. "I don't care how it makes me look. You're to be a part of this interrogation as well as I am. I want you close."

"Are you sure?" Hawke asked, surprised. "I know any sign of affection can make us look weak."

"Let them think what they want. Their mistake will be the death of them."

Hawke smiled and rested her hand back on Isabela's shoulder, leaning down then to place a tender kiss on her lips. The surrounding members of Isabela's crew wolf-whistled. One look from Isabela silenced them almost immediately and they went back to their conversations, waiting eagerly and sipping their drinks. Isabela hoped Ser Tadeus and his men would arrive soon. She longed to get out on the open seas again.

A few minutes later, the door to the tavern swung open and the crowd of patrons fell silent. Ser Tadeus stepped in, away from the blinding sunlight outside and his crew filed in loyally behind him. Isabela eyed him with a smile and didn't bother getting up to receive him. She kicked his chair out from under the table, signalling for him to sit.

"Admiral," he greeted her, pacing himself down and accepting a pint of ale from the tavern wench. The frothing mug overflowed slightly, dripping onto the graffitied table. "I see you've brought the Champion too. Excellent! I'd hate to break a sweat just for another preliminary round."

"A sweat isn't the only think you'll be breaking," Isabela mocked. "Not if Hawke has her way that is."

Ser Tadeus leaned back casually on his chair, arms open as he smiled up at her. "I welcome the challenge, Champion. There's a bone downstairs that would love to have you wrangle it."

The motley crew of an audience hooted and cheered as Tad presented his crotch and stoked it for her benefit.

"Oh, Tad," Isabela chuckled. "You'd need a microscope to find that thing. Let's talk serious for a second."

"Not like you, Isabela. Talking isn't usually your thing," Tad continued. "Or didn't you tell Hawke here how we used to settle these things in the good old days?"

Isabela felt Hawke's nails into her shoulder. _Shit, forgot to mention that piece of history earlier._

"I didn't really consider you worthy of remembrance to be honest," the Admiral replied, grinning at him cheekily. A few of her crew laughed.

"Well how about we go again you—"

Hawke slammed her dagger into the table so fast that the thud made most people jump. Everyone apart from Ser Tadeus, that was. This reaction from her seemed to be his intention.

"Glad I have your attention, Serah Hawke."

"If we could get back on track," Hawke snarled, dragging her dagger back out of the table. "And not back in time, that would be great, Ser Whatever Your Name Is."

"Tadeus," he replied with a smile, stroking his black goatee. He seemed rather taken with her. "How about you switch places with Isabela here and we converse instead? I always love a fresh challenge."

"Sorry, I tend to stab first, talk later," Hawke replied coolly. "Now tell us why you had Sprug here place a cursed artefact on Isabela in an attempt to take her life! The events you put into motion that day had my little sister possessed and almost killed her! I'm not in the mood for these little sex games you're trying to play."

Ser Tadeus gave Isabela a look of bewilderment, as the Admiral ducked in embarrassment and the surrounding pirates looked confused at the premature directness the negotiations had taken.

 _Oh Hawke, all that training for nothing._

"She doesn't know how these proceedings usually go, does she?" Tad asked.

Isabela shrugged, a hand outstretched. "I did try to explain."

"No matter," Tadeus laughed. "I can see she's just in a bit of a rush, so let me get straight to the point. You'll never find him, Hawke. He's gone into hiding. It will take a lot to draw Lachlan Poole out. He's a master at concealing himself."

"You underestimate us," Isabela grinned.

"Perhaps we can make a deal," he pressed, sipping his ale. "Something that benefits us both. I never had any beef with you, Isabela. I always considered you healthy competition and nothing more. But you see, Lachlan has something on me, and don't ask me what, dear friends for, I will not reveal what it is. But while having him and his coin in my pocket once proved useful, I've come to realise that his presence and insatiable appetite has become something of an inconvenience for me. I no longer wish to do his dirty work under the threat of blackmail."

"We're listening," Hawke said, ""Spit it out, you slime ball."

Ser Tadeus inclined his head towards her in acknowledgement and turned his attention to Isabela. "Give me back my stolen goods, whatever remains of them anyway, and I will lend you my fleet to help you defeat Lachlan should you find him."

"That Armada isn't yours," Isabela said, rolling her eyes. "Each ship is as good as a nation, Tad. You're not the king no matter how many times you try to tell people that."

"Nations that I have united through deals and schemes to keep them in my pocket, Isabela," Tadeus insisted with self-importance. "That is by all definitions, a king. You will need a fleet of you are to take on Lachlan and end his reign for good... And I have something else that I know you won't be able to say no to."

"And what is that?"

"Ianto."

Isabela actually looked rather impressed, discarding her well-trained poker face for the first time in front of Tadeus. She eyed him closely, leaning forwards and crossing her hands together. "You actually have a way of Ianto, the Terror of Llomeryn, getting on board with this?"

Ser Tadeus mimicked her moves, until their faces were close. "Maybe," he teased, "Lachlan did a number over on him while you were absent. I'm sure he could be convinced. What's it worth to you?"

Isabela silently contemplated his question, then: "Jackson!" she said, without taking her eyes off Tad's, as though seeing the truth but waiting for the lie just in case she was mistaken. "Go fetch whatever's still left of Ser Tadeus' goods from The Eider's Cry as a gesture of goodwill in these negotiations."

As the giant man obliged and left the tavern, Ser Tadeus gave a hearty laugh. "You're as slippery as the first day I met you, Isabela. I knew you'd bloody stolen them."

Isabela chuckled too. "I don't know why you want them back," she teased. "The only reason I still have any left is because they were too worthless to sell on the market in Kirkwall."

"Because they are family heirlooms, nothing more," Tadeus revealed. "They have no real value except a sentimental one. But thank you for returning them nonetheless."

"Oh," Isabela shrugged. "Well, in that case, you're welcome to them. I didn't really know what I was stealing if I'm honest."

"And you rarely are. But answer me this, do you ever know?"

"On occasion," she joked. "Mostly I just do it for the thrills."

They waited for Jackson to return, sipping their drinks and sharing a bit of banter. When Tadeus finally reclaimed his stolen property, they turned to business once more.

"So how are we...?" Hawke stopped midsentence as her upset stomach did a somersault. "How are we supposed to...Ugh..." She heaved, threatening to vomit at the table.

"Charming," Tadeus disapproved, hearing her swallow audibly. "If what you were going to say is, 'How are we going to find out where Lachlan Poole is holed up?' then I have a suggestion." He reached over and grabbed Sprug by the scruff, as the gaunt man tried to escape through the crowded tavern.

"Good one!" Isabela said with a nod. "Clearly this little shit has his fingers in a lot of pies. What do you say, Sprug? Lachlan's favourite hangout spot for your life? I think that's a trade worth its weight in gold."

"You already bartered with my life, Admiral," Sprug squealed. "You told me if I brought you Tad you'd let me go!"

"I did," Isabela agreed. "I said _I'd_ let you go, you weasel of a man and the saddest excuse of a pirate I've ever met. I didn't say anything about Hawke though."

As if on cue, Hawke grabbed him by the collar. Sprug recoiled as though she was going to attack him but instead, Hawke took even herself by surprise at what came next. She wretched all over him, vomit exploding from her mouth and drenching the man from head to toe. The entire tavern erupted in hysterical laughter as Sprug stood dripping in the contents of Lana's stomach, a downtrodden man who had finally hit rock bottom. He slowly wiped a bit of bile from his face, glanced from Tad to Isabela then to Hawke, before finally admitting defeat. All his misdeeds had caught up with him at last.

"Fine," he grumbled, the corners of his mouth downturned so much that he looked like a basset hound. "I'll do it, Admiral. I'll bloody do it. Give me a month or two...I'll 'ave Lachlan's location for you."

Hawke wasn't sure if Isabela heard his response over the noise as everyone cheered and booed him out of the tavern, a sad shell of a broken man with a vomit-covered reputation he could now never recover from.

"Ugh, I think I'm going to go again," Hawke groaned, massaging her stomach and wearing a pained expression. The pirates around her back away, afraid they might be next.

Isabela couldn't stop laughing. "Get yourself back upstairs to bed, sweetness. I'll finish up here and form a plan with Tad. You do look terrible."

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Serah Hawke," Tadeus said, getting to his feet in courtesy, still chortling himself. "Honestly, I'll be telling that story for years to come! That slimy bugger had it coming for the longest time."

Cheered on by both crews, much to Hawke's bafflement, she left the table. _Who'd have thought vomiting on someone in that manner would earn this much rep?_ Pirates were strange fellows. Still, she found it remarkable that she didn't get a speck of sick on her own 'd gotten her own back on Sprug in the strangest manner possible, but seeing him disgraced like that brought about a sweet satisfaction nonetheless. The unlikely heroine, Hawke made her way back up to the bedroom, hoping and praying that the chambermaid had been in to clear up the last mess she had made.

* * *

There was no suggestive stare across a tavern, no cheesy pick-up line, no courting between the two. No...Almost three months later, after loitering with Isabela in Antiva City, Hawke managed to catch Lachlan's attention in a dirty, filthy alleyway, just off the beaten path, where many knew not to tread. Isabela knew already that he had a hero complex, too much so for a pirate and to him, it didn't sound like Hawke had much of a choice to be in this particular alleyway. The plan had been in motion for weeks. By now Lachlan Poole had heard talk of Lana Hawke, her name spread frequently amongst the city folk in order to grab his attention. She was as beautiful as the rumours claimed, and had donned a dress for a change, instead of her usual attire. Unfortunately weapons were a no go for this quest. Hawke had the girls on show tonight, held up by a tight black corset. The dark, blood-red dress she wore accentuated her curves perfectly, highlighting the contours of a body worked hard for.

 _Not that she needed any of it in the end._ _Hawke could be wearing rags and still have the effect she was going for._

From her vantage point, Isabela witnessed two unknown men dragging Hawke along. They were laughing at her frantic kicks and screams, entertained by the fear she was feigning. Seeing her being hauled away in this manner had Isabela feeling sick to the stomach. Cowering in the shadows, she froze, watching Hawke struggle against the poor brutes who actually thought they were going to be able to spend the coin they had been offered to capture her. Halfway down the alley, the party stopped and Lana was up held against the cold, wet fence of a nearby garden. Isabela moved closer, hearing her muffled screams, seeing where they were touching her. Before they could go any further, Lachlan appeared in the glade. He cleared his throat in announcement and Isabela ducked back into the cover again for fear she would be spotted. When he had passed, jealousy reared its ugly head and she forced herself to watch again, waiting for the right moment to act.

Lachlan took a few steps towards the trio, taking in the eyes of the older man, the younger, and then those terrified chocolate-brown eyes of Hawke.

"Captain, we've got her," the eldest said, stating the obvious.

"I see that..."

 _So,_ Isabela thought, _he isn't trying to save her like I'd thought he would. He is actually the one who had her captured._ The plan had backfired rather dramatically, and Isabela wondered if it would be worth pulling the cord on it now. Hawke was in a lot more danger than originally presumed.

Lachlan patted the elder man's cheek playfully. He then leaned in, placing his lips over Hawke's unwilling mouth. The desire and excitement rose within him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, inhaling every ounce of what was on offer. It was nauseating. Isabela had never loved Hawke more than when she watched her head butt him square in the face in reply. He collapsed, and the elder instantly helped Lachlan to his feet. The boss reached out and grabbed the younger man by the collar before he could bail. The lad clearly hadn't signed on for a beating by a woman. He preferred his rape victims a little less willing to fight back.

"Leaving already?" Lachlan asked him, dragging him back. He closed his eyes, smiling, revelling in how powerful he felt in these moments. Isabela knew he'd already had his fair share of women this week, but there was one more to be had. One more, because once you had sex with Lana Hawke you never forgot it. Isabela could attest to that, and it was taking every ounce of restraint she had not to intervene.

Revitalised and rejuvenated after snorting something up his nose, Lachlan turned his attentions back to Lana, who looked like she was desperately trying to disappear into a the high wooden fence behind her. Her eyes were wide, frightful, as she watched the Captain stalk towards her. He pressed himself up against her, running a hand through her hair, their lips almost touching but not quite.

"You're not afraid," Lachlan whispered, sensing that while she looked it, her expression was merely one of shock rather than fright.

"W-what do you mean?" Hawke breathed.

Lachlan laughed a low and gritty growl. "What do you think I am, darling?"

"A p-pirate?" Hawke guessed, feigning stupidity.

"Hmm, better than a rapist, I suppose," Lachlan drawled. "I hate that word. It's so crass! I've heard a great deal about you, Lana Hawke, but the words don't quite do you justice."

"Is that why you had me dragged here?" Hawke asked, eyeing the other men as she too realised the plan had gone array. "To have your way with me?"

"Well let's say that was the case," Lachlan replied, as the other two guffawed pathetically. "What would you be able to do about it?"

Hawke fought against the hand restraining her until the elder man was flipped in one swift motion onto his back atop the concrete. The younger man tried to restrain her and he found himself running headlong into the fence behind Hawke as she sidestepped his charge. He fell to the ground alongside his friend, both of them now unconscious.

Lachlan stood quite still, giving her slow applause, unfettered by the dominance she had just shown over his men.

"You're quite the little killer, aren't you?" he teased.

"Did you see me rip out any throats? Any hint of red dripping from those cretins?" Hawke snarled. "I'm no killer."

"No," Lachlan agreed. He closed in on her again, pressing her up against the fence and breathing in her scent. "But you _could_ kill them...Couldn't you?"

"When I'm backed into a corner like a dog then yes. I have no control once I start."

Lachlan's eyes lit up, like he had just met his match. "Neither do I," he murmured in her ear. He licked grossly up the side of her face and Hawke closed her eyes, wrestling every urge in her body to rip out his wretched tongue and flee. She knew then in that moment that he couldn't simply rape her as he normally would have done had it been any other poor girl. Something was stopping him. Isabela had been right. Lachlan's high opinion of himself could be his own undoing. This all sounded a lot safer in Isabela's words though. This wasn't how it was supposed to go down so why wasn't she intervening? Hawke felt genuinely afraid for the first time in a very long while. Maybe she and Isabela had bitten off more than they could chew with their last quest.

"I'm..." Lachlan rested his head against hers, seeing in that moment that, as attractive and powerful and magnificent as she was, Hawke was nothing more than a wounded animal at his mercy. He placed a cold hand on her cheek. "Intrigued by you."

"You aren't going to kill me?"

"Why do you ask? Aren't you content with your life?" Lachlan responded, running his hand up her thigh. "I've never walked away from a sure thing before. Count yourself lucky, Lana."

"Why would you even bother, after going to all this effort to capture me?"

"Because," he breathed, now shaping his hand around her hourglass figure. "You still have a bit of use in you. We're going to continue this in my cabin."

"You cab—WAIT!"

Isabela's blood boiled as she watched Lachlan backhand Hawke hard across the face, silencing her yell. It connected so cleanly that it echoed in the night. Hawke collapsed, but before she hit the ground Lachlan had already scooped her up into his arms. Laughing menacingly to himself, he stepped over his unconscious men and took off with her. Isabela quickly stalked him down the street, hoping to The Maker that he was involuntarily leading her back to his ship and the rest of his fleet. Unfortunately she couldn't just kill him now and have done with it. The Crows wouldn't be happy at the unsanctioned bloodshed and besides, killing people on land wasn't the way of a pirate. Isabela knew a battle was required if Lachlan and his ideals were to really disappear, and a battle meant that he had to be at sea with his crew, where the laws wouldn't get in her way.

A soft groan escaped Hawke's lips. Something uncomfortable had roused her from the abyss. Her eyes rolled to back of her head and she fought to open them. In the faint greying room she appeared to be in, she could see the outline of a wooden desk. She made to move, but found that her hands and feet were bound. With another moan, she recalled the last thing she remembered. _The plan. Being the bait. But it wasn't supposed to happen this way!_

"Is...bela?" she mumbled in the darkness, tasting blood on her chapped, dehydrated lips."Is...bela!"

Her voice was surprisingly weak, and before she realised it she was crying. _Where are you?_ Isabela's scent, the softness of her skin, the caring gaze of those amber eyes... Just thinking about her made Hawke yearn for her company more than she ever had in her life. She couldn't hold him off much longer. Waves of terror rushed through her as she remembered where she was and what Lachlan had threatened to be capable of.

As if on cue, Lachlan re-entered his quarters, letting in a momentary stream of glorious sunlight before slamming the door shut on it and throwing Hawke into blackness once more. He took a glance at her lying on the floor and crossed the room, lighting a candle in the corner as he usually did.

"Have you had enough yet?" he asked her, as though she had requested the beatings he had bestowed upon her so far.

"What...what day is it?" Hawke murmured, closing her eyes again as her head spun nauseously.

"We've been at sea for four days," Lachlan sneered. "Why? Expecting someone to come and rescue you? I'm afraid no one knows that you're here, Serah."

Before Lana could ask anything more of him, every muscle in her body tensed. Her eyes flung open, mouth agape in horror as she realised he was upon her and this time, she knew there was no escaping what she had been dreading ever since their first encounter in the alleyway. Hawke watched his appearance morph before her eyes and struggled wildly, battling against the raging hunger inside him as he laid his weight on top of her. It wasn't going to work. It was fruitless. There was no hope now. There was no escape.

Hawke screamed as she knew it was all over. "AaaaIsabelaaaaaaa!"

Lachlan leaned back and stared down at her in shock. It worked. She had utter the magic word.

"What did you say?" he demanded, sounding scared for the first time in four days. He scrunched her face in his hands, throttling her. "WHAT DID YOU SAY?!"

Suddenly the world shook as the sound of canon fire rocked the waves, landing a hair away from the ship. Lachlan was buffeted backwards and Hawke flew with him. A wicked laugh escaped her when they landed of the other side of the room, deep and evil, curdling from the pit of her stomach. She had no idea where it was coming from. All she knew that was in that moment, Lachlan Poole was just as afraid as she was.

"You bitch! What did you do?!" He jumped to his feet, did up his pants over his shrivelling penis and swung a hard kick to her midsection. Hawke barely felt it as she continued to laugh, knowing that with each kick, his days were numbered.

"You didn't really think you could kill her did you?" she sneered up at him. "Isabela sends her regards."

Lachlan booted her three times over until she stopped laughing and moaned in agony again. He then dashed to the weapons rack on the wall as the sound of battle raged overhead accompanied by massive thuds that meant rival pirate factions had boarded. Lachlan ran out of his quarters, leaving Hawke battered and bruised in the darkness once more.

Hearing the sound of what she could only hope was Isabela and Ser Tadeus' Armada attacking Lachlan Poole's fleets, Hawke began to drag herself across the floor, heaving her broken body towards the lit candle still burning on the desk. She reached up with her bound hands and pulled herself into a standing position, slipping momentarily before finally balancing her tied up feet while the ship swayed under them. Using the flame, she held the ropes around her wrists out and winced as they burnt apart.

As soon as her hands were freed, she bent over and tore the shackles from her ankles. The red dress she had been wearing was filthy with both dust and blood. Lachlan had torn it from the bottom up, which actually worked out well, giving her a bit more leg movement. Hawke grabbed a set of daggers from his weapons rack and limped out of the cabin, eager to hunt him down and finally have her vengeance.

* * *

The battle for the Eastern Seas raged for well over a day. Ianto proved to be a menace, born for these situations. Ships burnt for miles on the horizon, as the last of Lachlan Poole's legacy faded to ash and sank to the bottom of the ocean. Hawke leaned over the back of The Eider's Cry as it took off in the opposite direction, blood soaked and broken, but at peace. She dropped Poole's dismembered head into the sea with a splash, watching his horribly distorted features disappear as it got sucked under. Something about the whole thing felt downright melancholy.

 _Maybe Lachlan's legacy isn't the only one that needs laid to rest._

The gentle rush of the waves after hours of battle was a welcome one. Hawke had never felt so content, despite being in so much physical pain. Was it the fact that she had just beheaded her would-be rapist after a botched plan? The fact that she had finally gotten her revenge on those who had taken a cowardly attempt on Isabela's life? Or maybe it was the satisfying notion that those who harmed Bethany were now floating on the seabed, breathing their last as they sank forever into the unforgiving depths? Hawke closed her eyes, feeling the arms of Isabela slide around her waist from behind. She rested her cheek against Lana's bruised one, both of them looking out at the view. The orange evening sky was soothing, and Hawke took a deep, calming breath.

"Are you ok?" Isabela whispered, nuzzling into her neck, breathing in her scent as though she had forgotten. "That was too close."

Hawke opened her chocolate-brown eyes again and exhaled with relief, feeling Isabela's kiss on her collarbone. "Way too close," she agreed softly.

"We took a risk. It paid off in the end."

"I was afraid it was looking like one risk too many," Hawke replied with a shiver. "Fate will have its way with me one of these days. Lachlan almost did."

"Did he...?"

"No, but he was close to it. I'm glad you arrived when you did."

"So am I, sweetness." Isabela held her tighter. "He really did a number on you by the looks of it."

"I thought...I thought he...Maker, Isabela!" Hawke struggled to find the words, to find a breath all of sudden.

"Sssh, it's over now...It's over." Isabela urged her to turn around and Hawke melted into her embrace, a tear of relief streaming down her cheek. Being in her arms again felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. There was no longer an anchor attached to her heart, no longer the threat that she or Isabela would walk out the door one day and never come back. Against all odds again, they had succeeded.

The crew had finished throwing the last of the corpses overboard and now watched the two women, not in a pervy way as normally would have been the case, but with great respect and a sense of sadness. They too knew that this would be the last quest of Isabela and Hawke. There would never be another pair in Thedas like them.

"It really is over, isn't it?" Hawke sniffled, resting her forehead against Isabela's. Her mind was as broken as her body. She had lost all composure, but it didn't much matter to her anymore. There was no reason for her to put on a brave face any longer.

"Yes..."

Hawke stroked Isabela's olive cheek, searching deep in her eyes. "How do you feel about letting Ser Tadeus take control of the Eastern Seas in your stead?"

"I won't pretend it doesn't hurt," the Admiral admitted. "I worked hard for the reputation I've built. But we had a deal. My raiding days are at an end, Hawke. It's time we enjoy our remaining time together, rather than continuing to tempt fate like this."

"Are you ok with that?" Hawke asked, sounding rather unsure herself. _How does one settle down after a lifetime of fighting?_

"No, but all this business with Lachlan has made me aware, more than ever, of how easy it can be to lose you, Hawke. I already thought I did once. I don't want to go through that again. We're getting more and more reckless as we try and hold onto this lifestyle...Maybe it's really time to let it go and try to put down roots."

"So what does this mean?" Hawke breathed, feeling lost already. "I don't know what it is to be normal."

She spun around again and they both stood, staring at the horizon once more. Both women felt like weapons of a previous war, outdated and obsolete. This was uncharted territory for them. The Eider's Cry was heading in a direction that neither was navigating. It was floating idly with the wind, just like they were.

Isabela sighed. "Hawke, I don't think we'll ever _be_ normal. But we can try, can't we?"

Hawke smiled. "I doubt anything we do will be boring, that's for sure."

The day grew dark around them, and one by one the crew got back to work, leaving them to their silent meditation. It felt nice just to stand still for a change, to not have to worry or debate what the next move would be. Words were not necessary when everything had already been said that mattered. With Isabela's arms around her, Hawke knew she would be alright.

"Excuse me, Admiral. A raven just arrived."

Jackson finally broke the silence and Isabela came back to life. She turned, accepting the outstretched vellum in his hand and a sack of what sounded like Sovereigns. Dismissing him, she then released Hawke, unravelled the vellum and both of them began to read the lengthy correspondence:

 _Dear Hawke and Isabela,_

 _I hope this letter finds you well._

 _Firstly, let me express my gratitude for everything you have done for the Inquisition. Corypheus has been defeated although none thought it possible. I myself had doubts when faced with the implausible task, but the Inquisitor managed to find a way. We owe her a great deal, but the part you both played should be remembered also. Please accept this payment and do so with the appreciation of the Inner Circle and the people of Thedas, whom you inadvertently saved with your actions._

 _Secondly, in the months that you have been gone, a lot has changed (besides the obvious God-slaying). The Inquisition has disbanded and Cassandra has become the new Divine Victoria._ _It's early days, but she seems to relish the challenge. The Grey Wardens of the south slowly rebuild following the events at Adamant. They declared it time for the Order to emerge from the shadows, to join the rest of humanity in fighting their ancient foes._ _Rumours abound that they severed ties with their leaders at Weisshaupt, and that a bitter war now rages between them._ _You'd think we'd all be tired of wars by now...Apparently not._

 _Luckily, Aveline received my letter and escaped before the infighting began. Donnic's death has clearly hit her hard, but she has now taken up her old post of Guard Captain in Kirkwall, attempting to get the city under control once more. Varric also returned. He has accepted the role of Viscount of Kirkwall. It has taken a lot of work on his part, but he has done a great job of helping get the city back on its feet. I think he always missed it deep down. It was home after all. Under his rule, the city-state has resumed its place as the major trade hub of the Free Marches. He has continued to ignore all mail from both the Merchants Guild and the Prince of Starkhaven (I only know this as I have been intercepting them). Both he and Aveline would be grateful for your help in rebuilding the city's infrastructure if your travels take you that way, but I know the place holds a lot of bad memories for you, Lana. I thought you should like to know regardless._

 _Commander Cullen and Bethany have temporarily retreated to your home in Old Lothering to stay with Charade and the baby. I gathered that their intention is also to head north to the Free Marches eventually and reunite the child with her mother, but for now they are enjoying a bit of normality after the chaos. You needn't worry any longer, as I know you hated leaving Bethany like that. The two of them seem really happy together, Lana. She deserves it. She always was a sweet girl. Commander Cullen has successfully beaten his dependency on Lyrium and a lot more former Templars are now following in his footsteps. It's admirable really. Your sister is in very safe hands._

 _Lastly, from the bottom of my heart, to both you and Isabela, let me wish you the very best in your endeavours. I don't expect I'll ever see you again but one can always hope. You helped me remember who I was amidst my grief for Justinia and placed the Hero of Ferelden back in my arms again. Words cannot express how grateful I am. I continued to act as the Inquisition's spymaster in its final months as an independent organization. Right now I have a villa on the Waking Sea, my childhood home. Navarre and I often meet there and I cherish any time I get to spend with her knowing that our work is never done. I shared many of my responsibilities with my most trusted agents before I left Skyhold. I fear what lies on the horizon for us all, but I currently have nothing more to give. Maybe I'll muster up the strength when it is needed again, but this war took more of me than I realised. I'm sure you of all people know the feeling. Successors seemed like the soundest idea for now and I have regular updates on their process._

 _For risk of rambling on, I'll leave you with this. I apologise for any pain I may have caused you. I'm glad we didn't end things on bad terms and I'll always remember the last day we three spent together. I wish you both nothing but happiness and hope you can finally find some peace in this world. Rest assured, your legacies will live on in your absence and Thedas will never forget both The Queen of the Eastern Seas and the Champion of Kirkwall. Should they ever need reminding, I will be the bard that tells the stories of your adventures and sings songs of your sacrifices and heroics. Should either of you ever need anything at all, you know how to find me. For now though, I'll say a final, bittersweet goodbye. Maker watch over you in whatever path you choose next in this tale._

 _Love and best wishes,_

 _Always yours,_

 _Leliana_

Seeing Isabela had finished before her, Hawke took the letter from her and stared at the last few lines. _Leliana..._ Another tear sank down her cheek and she turned away, not wanting Isabela to see. The pirate wasn't fooled though.

"It really puts everything in perspective, doesn't it? Seeing it all written down like that," Isabela stated. "Really feels like the end."

Hawke stared up at the stars, silent tears continuing to stream down her face. "I know what you mean," she replied hoarsely. "Where do we go from here, Isabela? How do we start putting pieces of our old lives back together again?"

Isabela took her hand, amber eyes following Hawke's gaze up at the night sky as though it held some answers for them.

"I don't know," she admitted. "Kirkwall is always an option again, but we don't have to return right away, sweetness. I know it would be difficult for you."

"I hadn't ever really considered going back," Hawke sighed, remembering the decade she had spent in Kirkwall, grimacing as the pain returned. "There are too many ghosts. After everything that happened there. I lost so much... With Varric in charge though? Maybe things would be different a second time around. Maybe I don't have to keep fearing the very thought of the place."

"Maybe," Isabela agreed. "We could build a new Hanged Man? Start our own smuggling business? Oo I like that idea! Jackson could take over as Captain of The Eider's Cry in my stead while I run things from the depths of Lowtown, lording over the seas from a far and drinking myself into a stupor, only this time there's no one to bar me from the tavern because I'd own it! A-ha! Bow you fools! Bow to Isabela! We'll have duels every weekend, winner drinks from free the rest of the night! Varric can judge, being Viscount and all. We'll get imported Llomerryn wines off the black market! The odd whore or two so I can get my girls working and making some coin again and ...Maker, I got a bit carried away there, didn't I?"

"Hmm, yes, sounds like you'll be a pain in Aveline's ass again if we go back," Hawke laughed. Isabela always did know how to cheer her up. Her face fell as the laughter died out and Hawke stared back down at Leliana's final letter. "Blood of Andraste, I really don't know, Isabela. So much went wrong there. Is it worth reliving all that?"

"We don't have to decide now. We don't have to decide ever. We can just keep sailing, Hawke."

"And lost ourselves in the horizon?" Hawke smiled. "That actually sounds nice. Everyone gave up on us after Kirkwall."

Isabela took Hawke's face in her hands, her amber eyes burning like Hawke had never seen before.

"Yes, everyone gave up on us. Even people watching our story from afar eventually left us to it. But we proved them all wrong and their voices fell silent. We turned the tide, Hawke. We knew there was something worth holding onto here, something more potent than any argument we had ever had in the past, something worth all the bickering and the bitterness and the jealousy. Our relationship still had a story to tell, and we were right. This tale might not have gone the way everyone wanted, it may not have been told in a way that was expected, but it was important enough for us to keep going, again and again, until we got it right. And you know what, sweetness? I don't know what would have become of us if we hadn't."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has followed the entire story of Lana Hawke and Isabela for however many years its been. From the beginnings in 'A Pirate's Charm', the prequel 'Secret Encounters', the sequel 'A Swashbuckler's Wit', and now the final tale 'A Marauder's Redemption', I have thoroughly enjoyed the ups and downs, the innuendos and the arguments, and reading all your reviews and messages in between. Writing this has helped me through some difficult times, and I hope reading it has helped some of you. I think I was nearing one million words in total so this really is a bittersweet goodbye. The idea of not writing about these two anymore is difficult to imagine after so long and I hope I did their story justice in the end. I can't believe I'm finally finished!**_

 _ **This is the Sorrows of Arlathan, signing off.**_ _ **¡Adios!  
**_


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